And the World Came Tumbling After
by Molly4
Summary: Important: Read author's notes. A story mainly revolving around the Cohens and the Atwood. Involves illness, tears, angst, and just general sadness. R
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Okay, so I began this story a fairly long time ago, so not everything in this story is going to match up with what has happened on the show. I used to change it to fit the events of each new episode, but that was just too confusing, and too much of a hassle. So, in this story, Summer and Seth are a couple, but Summer doesn't acknowledge him in public, and her reason for doing so is different from the one she tells Anna. Ryan and Marissa are broken up, and Marissa is now considering them "friends." Luke is still sort of a member of their group, but Seth still has major disdain for the guy. Oliver's gone, but Anna and Teresa are still hanging around.   
  
In addition, and this is *very important*: This story is incredibly similar plot-wise to a story written by crazybeef entitled "Rainbows are Lame and Leperchauns are Freaky." I have already discussed this matter with the author, and she is fine with me posting this story, and has even become my wonderful, extraordinary beta reader. So, there's no controversy there.   
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Cohens, Ryan, Luke, Summer, Marissa, etc. They all belong to FOX and Josh Schwartz and all that. However, I do claim Adam Brody as my TV boyfriend, and Peter Gallagher, despite our huge age difference, remains the runner up in that category.  
  
And here goes….  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Ryan was sitting at the kitchen counter quietly munching his corn flakes when Seth shuffled into the room.   
  
"Wow, man. You look like crap," Ryan remarked, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.  
  
Ryan, however tactless, was correct. Seth did indeed look crappy. Lately he had seemed more worn down, but it had never been as extreme as that particular morning. There were dark circles under both bloodshot eyes, his body was scrunched up into itself, giving him a scrawny, vulnerable, appearance, his hair had gone from uncontrollable to obscene, and his face was a deeply pale color, though his cheeks were a bit flushed. He was clad only in a robe, a blue t-shirt, and boxers, though if they wanted to get to school on time they'd have to get out the door in a few minutes.  
  
"You're a real sweet talker, you know that Atwood?" Seth grumbled, scooping a handful of cereal out of the box, then dropping it back in, apparently deciding he wasn't hungry. He sighed. "Actually, I'm really not feeling all that super today, but let's keep that on the hush-hush down-low, huh?"  
  
Ryan narrowed his eyes curiously. "Usually you'd jump at the chance to stay home from school. The one day you're actually sick, I'd expect you to be milking it for all it's worth." Ryan took a swig of coffee.  
  
Seth slumped down onto a chair beside Ryan. "That, my friend, was before Summer and I had sex, not once, not three times…but twice." Seth held up two fingers weakly. "I suppose we're dating, but considering the fact that she does not acknowledge my existence in public, it's probably not the best idea to ditch school today….you know…out of sight, out of mind?" Seth ran a weary hand through his hair. "Musn't have some other lad swooping in to steal my lady."   
  
"Whatever," Ryan mumbled with a shrug. He was still slightly concerned about the welfare of his brother, but that was probably just his older brother protective instincts.  
  
"Morning boys," came Sandy's cheerful voice as he hurried into the kitchen, throwing open a cabinet and grabbing a mug. "Seth, you'd better get dressed in the next two minutes. We've gotta go, Big Guy."   
  
"I'll wait and have Mom take me or something. I can be late." Seth sighed.  
  
"No can do, kiddo. Mom's at the airport. Big business trip for Caleb and..Kikki." Sandy almost spat the last word.  
  
Sandy turned around to face his son. He was instantly taken aback. What had mildly concerned Ryan, bothered him a little more. Seth was looking positively gaunt, but Sandy reminded himself to keep his worry in check. He was an extreme hypochondriac, but mostly when it concerned Seth or Kirsten, rather than himself. Seth could have a hangnail, and he'd probably call Poison Control.  
  
"You feeling okay, Seth?" Sandy asked cautiously. "You look beat."  
  
"I'm really feeling the love this morning," Seth groaned, drumming his fingers on the counter. He gave his dad a reassuring but annoyed smile. "I'm fine," he said.  
  
"You sure?" Sandy reached over and placed the back of his hand on Seth's forehead gently. "You feel a little warm."  
  
"Dad, I'm fine." Seth swatted away his hand.  
  
"You could stay home today. I could ditch work…we'll make a day of it. Play Playstation, watch all those "Dukes of Hazzard," tapes..whatever." Sandy grinned, starting to enjoy the idea of letting go of work for a day to just shoot the shit at home.  
  
"Nah." Seth yawned. "I have an English test I can't afford to miss." He paused. "And I'm fine…seriously. Just a little tired is all."  
  
"Have you been having trouble sleeping again?" Sandy asked, resting a hand on Seth's shoulder.  
  
"No," Seth replied quickly. "I've been sleeping just fine." He stole a glance over at Ryan, trying to see if he was paying attention to the conversation. His insomnia was not something he usually felt comfortable talking about. Besides, that was not the problem. In fact, he'd been sleeping like a baby as soon as his head hit the pillow these days. Or the desk, if he was in calculus class.  
  
Ryan watched the whole exchange, a bemused expression on his face. Sandy fussing over Seth, and Seth trying to get him off his back was not a rare event, but it was always rather amusing, watching the two stubborn Cohens butt heads. Never got old, really. Now all Sandy had to do was slip up again and call Seth "honey," and the shit would really hit the fan. Or "baby." That little term of endearment always got Seth riled up.  
  
Sandy nodded, his eyebrows arched skeptically. "Okay," he said, nodding still. "Run up and get dressed. We'll wait for you."  
  
"Ugh." Seth slid off the chair and trudged out of the kitchen. "BRB," he called over his shoulder.  
  
Sandy gave Ryan a perplexed look.  
  
"Internet lingo. Be right back," Ryan explained, scraping the remainder of his cereal into the trash.   
  
Sandy nodded. He took a small sip of coffee. "Any particular reason why Seth, who will grab any opportunity to miss a day of school, is actually begging me to let him go?"  
  
"He wants to follow Summer around, make sure she's not hanging out with any other guys," Ryan replied softly. He didn't want to betray Seth's confidence, but he wasn't about to lie to Sandy. "I don't think he's feeling all that well," he added, scratching the back of his head anxiously.  
  
"Well, whatever. He wants to go to school for once, let him." Sandy sighed, tugging on his tie with a frown. He grabbed a bagel from the counter and chewed on it thoughtfully. "I hope things are going okay with Summer and him."   
  
"If you're trying to get information from me, not a chance," Ryan said, grabbing the Sports section of the newspaper.   
  
Sandy shot him a lopsided grin as Seth reappeared in the kitchen, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt with a skull and crossbones on it, which read 'Kiss Me, I'm a Pirate.'  
  
"Interesting shirt there, son," Sandy said with a laugh.  
  
"Hoping to inspire the women of Harbor School," Seth replied with a tired smile. He looked like he'd cleaned up a bit, so as to not look so haggard for Summer.  
  
"Well, let's hit the road," Sandy said, with too much bouncy enthusiasm for Seth's liking.   
  
Seth shot Ryan a look, but Ryan just shrugged, washed out his coffee mug, and followed Sandy out of the house.  
  
"They're all nuts," Seth muttered, grabbing his backpack from the hall closet and, yawning the whole time, made his way to the Range Rover.  
  
Seth lay on his bed, clutching Captain Oats to his heart, pondering his life. It had been an extremely long and tedious day at school. His head was throbbing dully and his stomach hurt a little, but he felt too lazy to get up and grab some Tylenol. It seemed like all he ever did anymore was go to school, come home, and collapse on his bed. He seriously needed to increase his caffeine intake or something.  
  
As usual, Seth's thoughts eventually turned to Summer. Ah, Summer. He'd seen her in Biology and English, of course, where she'd flirted with him openly. Kids in advanced placement classes usually weren't all that interested in popularity, and truly didn't care who was dating whom. Seth and Summer flirting had very little impact on their thoughts. But, when Seth had tried to approach Summer during lunch, she had very politely explained that she had somewhere she had to be, and scurried away to wherever. Rejection was even harder than usual. After all, you'd think sex, no matter how awkward it was, would mean something, especially to a girl.  
  
Seth closed his eyes and sighed. He began to quietly sing along with his Bright Eyes CD, trying to make sense of the enigma that was Summer, and perhaps shake off his crazy headache.   
  
"So I hold my tongue, forget the song, tie my shoe and start walking off. And try to just keep moving on, with my broken heart and my absent God and I have no faith but it is all I want, to be loved and believe in my soul." Seth sang quietly, and the words, though dripping with angst, sort of made him feel better.   
  
He could handle Summer. He'd make her want everyone to know they were dating. He couldn't let her leave him because of something as superficial and shallow as popularity; they were both way above that.  
  
Seth fell asleep, hands still clutching Captain Oats like a small child cuddling with their teddy bear, and the tiniest of smiles on his lips.  
  
A knock on the door awoke Seth from his peaceful slumber. He groaned and tossed Captain Oats aside, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The tiny headache he'd had had become a full-blown, hangover-esque brain pounder. His eyes burned and he closed them with a sigh.  
  
"What?" He called, silencing his CD player.  
  
"Seth…dinner." His father's voice floated into his room.  
  
"Yeah. Be down there in a minute." He paused. "What're we having?" He yawned.  
  
"KFC," Sandy answered. "Seth, you okay in there?"  
  
"Yeah, Dad, fine."   
  
"Okay then." Seth heard his father's footsteps as he walked away from the door.  
  
Seth sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. He felt dead. He shivered. Dead and cold. He grabbed his Nirvana sweatshirt- conveniently located on his floor- and stood up. He yawned, standing up. For a second the world spun around right before his eyes.  
  
"Whoa," Seth whispered, reaching a hand out to steady his balance on his dresser. He blinked a few times, then let go, confident that he was okay. Though his vision was still slightly fuzzy, he knew he could make it downstairs with no problems.  
  
Seth stumbled his way out of the room and into the bathroom. He flicked the light on, caught a look of himself in the mirror, and cringed. His curly hair was plastered to one side of his head, making it look like a small furry creature was attempting to leap off of him. Not attractive. His eyes were red, with dark circles underneath them, and his face was like that of Casper, the Friendly Ghost. Maybe he really was sick.  
  
He turned on the cold water at the sink, bringing a few handfuls of water up to his face, reveling in it's refreshing coolness. He patted his face dry with a washcloth, and set to work on his hair. With a few expert maneuvers, he made it look at least presentable. There was very little he could do about the rest of his appearance, so if his dad wanted to think he was sick, he could go ahead and do so.  
  
After swallowing two Tylenol he set out for the kitchen. He could smell the fried chicken from the stairs, and his stomach turned over in his chest. He was more than a little queasy.  
  
"Well, look who finally decided to make an appearance," Sandy greeted him, cheerfully waving a chicken leg. "Grab a wing and sit down."  
  
Seth flopped into one of the kitchen chairs, and snatched a thigh from the greasy KFC box, and dumped it on his plate.  
  
"Here, have some potatoes; they're good for you," Sandy instructed, already scooping some onto his plate.  
  
Seth only grunted in reply, absentmindedly picking some skin off of his piece of chicken.  
  
"So boys, how was school?" Sandy asked, taking a sip of milk.  
  
Ryan shot him a meaningful look.   
  
Sandy shrugged. "Now that Kirsten's not here, someone has to ask these obligatory questions."  
  
"It was Monday," Ryan answered, wiping some grease off of his chin.  
  
"Ah." Sandy's cheerful smile never wavered. "So, is pre-calc as hellish for you as it was for Seth?"  
  
"Probably worse," Ryan answered. "The man hates me."  
  
Sandy nodded. "He'll do that to you." He glanced over at Seth and narrowed his eyes. Seth's eyelids were slowly drooping. Sandy jostled his arm lightly. "Hey!"  
  
Seth's eyes snapped open. He straightened up. "Huh? What?"  
  
"You were about to do a face-plant in your mashed potatoes," Sandy explained. He arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're okay?"   
  
Seth rubbed his face with his hand. "Yeah..yeah. Just a little tired is all."  
  
"I don't buy that, Seth," Sandy replied sternly.  
  
"I've got a headache, okay?" Seth snapped.  
  
"Okay, then." Sandy nodded. "Once you finish up with dinner, I want you to go right up to bed. No comics. No video games. No Internet."  
  
"Yes, Your Dictatorship," Seth mumbled.  
  
Sandy grinned, happy with the fact that he'd figured out what was wrong with Seth, and come up with a suitable solution to the problem. He couldn't help but talk a little more.  
  
"And if you're still feeling sick tomorrow, I don't want you going to school," he added. Ha! Kirsten could kiss his Jewish butt. She'd claimed he couldn't handle the boys on his own, and he was doing just superb, if he did say so himself.  
  
"Yeah," Ryan agreed, finally looking up from his plate. "Summer might come over to…comfort you."  
  
Seth's face turned a violent shade of red. His grabbed a biscuit and chucked it at Ryan, who ducked out of the way, laughing.   
  
"Boys, boys, there are starving children in Bangladesh who would love to have those biscuits," Sandy said, sadly shaking his head, then ducking quickly to avoid another flying biscuit.   
  
Seth's smiled, his face still pink. "And I guess that wouldn't be so bad. Summer would probably talk to me here, in the privacy of my own home, when nobody's around to see us together." He rolled his eyes.  
  
Sandy frowned. "She won't talk to you if other people are around?" He asked, looking mildly concerned.  
  
Seth waved it off with his hand. "No big deal. She's warming up to me. She just doesn't want to hurt my reputation by hanging all over me. You know." Seth avoided his father's eye contact, and sipped his milk quietly.  
  
Sandy, realizing there was nothing he could say to fix that particular problem for his son, decided to say nothing. He felt a jolt of pity for Seth though. He really liked Summer, and he knew that Summer felt the same way about him, but it was hard for her to let go of her popularity and date this "nerd." It made Sandy a little angry, knowing that Seth, his son, was hated. He was a good boy, sweet and kind-hearted. His sarcasm was just his defense against the rest of the world. He was too good for the Newport Beach snobs.   
  
"Done," Seth announced, swallowing one last spoonful of mashed potatoes. "And before you say anything, I'm gonna go upstairs, brush my teeth in light, circular strokes, and hop right into bed." He paused, batting his eyelashes. "I assume someone will be up to tuck me in shortly?"  
  
This time, the biscuit was aimed at him, and it hit him square between the eyes.  
  
Sandy flicked off the kitchen light. Ryan was in the pool house, sleeping soundly, and Seth was up in his room, hopefully sleeping. You never knew with him. He had the habit of sneaking a flashlight under his blanket to read Kerouac well into the night.   
  
Sandy yawned. He was already in his usual sleep wear: robe, boxers, gray T-shirt, and he wanted nothing more than to flop down on his bed and fall into Dreamland. He scaled the steps quickly, and headed down the hall toward his bedroom.  
  
He paused at Seth's door, debating about whether he should go in and check on him or not. He pressed his ear up against the door, and placed his hand on the doorknob. The door to Seth's room was always closed; he was a privacy freak.   
  
"Seth?" He whispered, as he opened the door, just in case Seth was awake.  
  
"Unnnn…stop…no…" Seth writhed and kicked in his bed, sleeping not so soundly.  
  
Sandy strode quickly over to his bed, perching himself on the edge.  
  
"Shhhh…Seth..it's okay, buddy. Dad's here." Sandy stroked Seth's hair tenderly. He frowned. Seth's body was soaked in sweat.   
  
Seth's body jerked, then stopped. His eyes flickered open, but they didn't seem to focus.  
  
"D-Dad?" He asked softly, his voice thick and confused.  
  
"Yeah, kiddo, it's me," Sandy told him softly. He bent down and kissed Seth's sweaty forehead gently.  
  
"Bad dream," Seth explained, licking his lips. "Fine now. Thanks." He paused. "Don't need to talk about it."  
  
"Do you need a glass of water?" Sandy asked.   
  
"No."  
  
"Want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?"  
  
"You don't hafta."  
  
"Okay." Sandy nodded. "I'll be right back," he said in a hushed voice.  
  
He returned a minute later with a damp washcloth that he'd soaked with cold water. He applied it to Seth's forehead, and began gently mopping the sweat from his face.  
  
"Feels good," Seth told him. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem, Big Guy." Sandy stood up. "You holler if you need me, okay?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Night, Seth."  
  
"Night, Dad."  
  
Sandy backed out of the room hesitantly. Oh yeah, Seth was not going to school the next day.  
  
"Morning, Sunshine."   
  
The shades were pulled open hastily, and impossibly bright shafts of sunlight attacked Seth's eyes. He rolled over, burying his face into his pillow.  
  
"My retinas," he groaned.  
  
"C'mon kiddo, wake up," Sandy ordered gently.   
  
"No thanks, Dad-o," Seth yelled into his pillow.  
  
Sandy perched himself on the edge of Seth's bed. "So, considering recent events, you're staying home today. No arguments. Cuz Daddy says so." Sandy mussed up Seth's hair lovingly.  
  
Seth batted his hand away. "I feel better," he lied. He rolled over to face his father. "But I'll stay home." He smiled in submission. "Just make sure to tell Ryan to keep an eye on Summer, huh?"  
  
Sandy placed a hand on Seth's forehead. "You still have a little fever. I'll call Harbor, call work, drive Ryan, and come back so we can hang out."  
  
Seth shook his head. "You don't have to stay home with me. I'm not a little kid. I can totally handle myself."  
  
Sandy snickered. "I need a day off as much as you do. We'll call it a mental health day, huh?" He paused. "Plus, it'll give us a chance to discuss this thing with Summer."  
  
Seth groaned, which widened Sandy's smile. He tucked the blankets under Seth's chin, and patted the top of his head.  
  
"Be back in awhile. Try not to miss me too much."   
  
"Try?" Seth snorted.  
  
"Wise ass," Sandy mumbled, but not without some affection. "Try not to burn the house down while I'm gone." He stood up and walked toward the door.  
  
"I'll leave that one to Ryan," Seth replied.   
  
Sandy snickered.  
  
"Bye Daddy, I love you," Seth said in a high-pitched, greatly exaggerated voice.  
  
"Love you too, baby," Sandy replied, knowing he'd strike a nerve.  
  
"Don't call me baby!"  
  
Sandy just grinned and headed downstairs, where Ryan sat, patiently waiting for Sandy, and reading the paper.  
  
"Rule number one, kid, Cohens are not morning people."  
  
"So I gathered," Ryan replied dryly. He smiled though, one of those tight-lipped smiles where he wouldn't look into your eyes. "How's Seth?"  
  
"Moody and wretched." Sandy sighed. "The usual. Nah, he'll be fine. Don't worry. He's gonna stay home today, but it's nothing. A little bug maybe." He shrugged. "Nothing to get excited about."  
  
Ryan nodded, happy with the verdict.  
  
"Now let's get going. One of my sons has to get some education today." He winked at Ryan. "Luckily, it's the smart one."  
  
Ryan felt a strange warmth spread through his chest. Son. He was Sandy's son. He smiled, liking it.  
  
"Seth's the genius, not me," Ryan replied, trying not to look Sandy in the eye. If he did, he might see that love and warmth in them, and Ryan might cry, or try to give him a hug or something.  
  
Sandy just laughed.  
  
When Sandy got home, Seth was sitting on the couch, a quilt draped over his shoulders, and playing Playstation 2. He looked up at Sandy and gave him a tired grin.  
  
"Grand Theft Auto. I try not to play it when Ryan's around," Seth joked.  
  
"Got any two player excitement for me?" Sandy asked, raising both eyebrows.  
  
Seth gave him a look. He seemed to be considering something. Finally, he sighed.  
  
"Okay, Dad. Plug in the N64. We'll play Mario Kart." Seth rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.  
  
"All right!" A huge grin spread across Sandy's face. "Dibs on Peach!" He ran toward the closet for the game system.  
  
Seth shook his head in disgust. "You call yourself a man." He paused. "Dibs on Yoshi, I guess."  
  
"Mushroom Cup?" Sandy asked.  
  
"Sure. It's the only one you can beat," Seth replied.  
  
"Not true…I just like Moo Moo Farm." Sandy began plugging in the Nintendo 64 console.  
  
"Suuuuure." Seth rolled his eyes.  
  
"But you have to promise not to take the short-cut on Koopa Troopa Beach. It's not fair," Sandy said.  
  
"You just jealous 'cause you can't do it," Seth replied crossing his arms.  
  
"I can so do it..I just don't want to." Sandy handed him a green controller. "And I can do the Wario's Stadium short cut too. It's just unethical; none of the other drivers know about them."   
  
Seth snorted. "There are no ethics in Nintendo." He shook his head. "But okay, I won't. And when we're done I'll continue walking you through Majora's Mask."  
  
Sandy grinned, excited. "I love that game," he said, smacking Seth's shoulder in all his exuberance.  
  
"Ow…yeah…I know…" Seth rubbed his shoulder, giving his father a dirty look. "Can't believe I'm still playing this system..but hey, it's your favorite."  
  
"That it is," Sandy agreed, a wistful smile on his face. When they'd bought Seth the game system, they hadn't had the closest relationship. They talked occasionally, but Seth spent most of his time hidden up in his room, doing his own thing, and Sandy spent most of his time worried that Seth was unhappy; unhappy in Newport, and just generally unhappy. But it was this game, Mario Kart, that had really brought them together. Seth needed someone to play with, and Sandy was willing to pick up a controller and learn the tricks of the trade if it meant getting closer to his son. And they did become closer. While they fought desperately to beat each other in Rainbow Road, they discussed girls, loneliness, and the stupidity and conceit of all those who surrounded them in Newport. Sandy was finally able to tell Seth that there was nothing wrong him, that it was they who made fun of him who had the problems. Though Sandy had never beaten Seth in a race or in battle, he always won with Mario Kart.  
  
"Yo, Dad. You with me?" Seth asked, giving him a funny look.  
  
"Yeah..just thinking about stuff." Sandy cleared his throat. "How you feeling?"  
  
"Pretty good. Just tired." Seth gave a tiny smile. "Don't worry about me."  
  
"I'm a father; it's what I do," Sandy replied, as the first race started up. "I love this game," he said fondly.  
  
  
  
Seth, knowing what his dad was thinking about, nodded his head slightly.  
  
"I know…I know."  
  
After about an hour and a half of heated races, Seth placing first in all of them, with no shortcuts, Sandy was ready to quit.  
  
You want to go make some lunch? Can your stomach handle it?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, that's be cool." Seth smiled. "I can't believe you couldn't even win one race. You got the lightning bolt like eight thousand times."  
  
"That was only in Toad's Turnpike, and I would've won but all those trucks kept swerving into me."  
  
"Yeah, Dad..they were gunning for you." Seth stood up, perhaps to quickly. Suddenly his head felt light, and the world was spinning around again. Just as he felt his knees give way, he grabbed onto his father's shoulder.  
  
Sandy caught him in his arms before he could slide to the floor. He set Seth carefully on the couch.  
  
"Seth…son, can you hear me?" Sandy asked, his voice panicked.  
  
Seth's eyes were glazed over and out of focus. He blinked three times, and looked directly into Sandy's eyes. He saw the worry, concern, and love, and felt uncomfortable.  
  
"Yeah..yeah…I guess I just lost my balance for a second there…sorry…" Seth averted his eyes from his dad's penetrating stare. He always knew when Seth was lying, and now was no exception. 'What's wrong with me?' Seth wondered.  
  
"No, you didn't just lose your balance. You were about to pass out." Sandy's voice was high and spiked. "God, Seth, you're sweaty and you're shaking." His jaw set stubbornly. "I'm taking you to the hospital. No arguments."  
  
"Aw, Dad," Seth whined. "Why can't we just go to Dr. Kilbride?"  
  
"Because Doctor Kilbride doesn't know left from right."  
  
"So of course he's my doctor."  
  
"He has the best lollipops."  
  
"Honestly Dad, I'm okay," Seth protested.  
  
"No, you're not, honey. If it hadn't been for me, you might be unconscious right now. Thank God I took off work today." Sandy brushed the curls off of Seth's forehead gently. "It's probably nothing. Probably stress." He said the words to reassure himself as well as Seth, though the growing pit in his stomach proved that he didn't believe it at all.  
  
"Don't call me honey," Seth muttered, defeated. "Great, spending my mental health day in Newport General." He rubbed his face with his hand.   
  
"Are you okay to walk?" Sandy asked. "Are you still dizzy?"  
  
"I can walk, no problem."  
  
Seth stood up shakily. He was still a little dizzy, but he didn't like being fussed over. Sandy rested his hand on the small of Seth's back, guiding him gently toward the door.  
  
"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," Sandy chided him.  
  
"I didn't want you to worry about me."  
  
"It comes with the territory of being a father," Sandy replied. "Wouldn't be doing my job if I wasn't an overbearing gnat."  
  
"Congratulations then; you're doing a lovely job."  
  
End of chapter one. Liked it? Hated it? Please review. 


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimers apply. Thanks for all the super reviews!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
The waiting room at HOAG was eerily quiet, not at all like the ones on TV. Of course, it was the hospital of the rich and the snobby, accidents were not common. The whole place was cold, sterile, and eerily quiet.  
  
Seth sat slumped in one of the blue chairs, his arms crossed, and an unhappy frown on his face. He maintained that he was fine, but Sandy would hear nothing of it. His dad sure was one stubborn Jew.  
  
Sandy sat filling out all the forms that the nurse at the front desk had given him. He sighed wearily, running a hand through his hair. He was more nervous than he'd care to admit. He'd always been like that when it came to his son though. He hated being so overprotective and paranoid, but he couldn't help it. He loved the kid more than life itself.  
  
"You still dizzy?" Sandy asked, not looking up from his forms.  
  
"I'm fine," Seth replied crossly.   
  
"You've been saying that since yesterday and, funny, I don't believe it." Sandy paused. "Are you on drugs?"  
  
"What? No!" Seth shook his head emphatically. "No possible way. Never. I'd never touch that shit."  
  
"Don't cuss," Sandy said. "And I trust that you wouldn't do drugs, but I'm a parent; I have to ask."  
  
"Whatever," Seth mumbled. He shivered. "Can't they turn the heat on in here?"  
  
Sandy gave him an appraising look. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but he held back. Instead, he got up and handed the completed forms to the nurse.  
  
"By the way," he said, sitting down, "if anyone asks your last tetanus shot was two years ago. Polio, three years."  
  
"You mean you don't have these meaningless facts committed to memory?" Seth asked, with mock surprise.  
  
"Slips my mind every now and again," Sandy said. He grinned. He liked being able to joke around with Seth; it was nice. He'd never had any connection with his father at all.  
  
Seth sighed tiredly. His head felt heavy, and he wanted to just close his eyes and sleep the day away. He stretched his legs out slightly, which were annoyingly stiff. He glanced at his watch, wanting to get the whole damn thing over with. He felt a stinging pain in his head, and, seeing nowhere else to lean, gently leaned his head on his father's shoulder. He closed his eyes, exhausted.   
  
Sandy was surprised at the sudden weight that plopped onto his shoulder. He smiled faintly at his son. They'd become much closer after Ryan started living with him. It seemed to him that Seth was so grateful that he let Ryan live with them that he was nicer to his father, more compassionate. Seth had certainly never let Sandy be so close to him voluntarily before Ryan got there, in the physical and emotional sense.   
  
Sandy's fingers danced lightly over Seth's curls, occasionally winding his fingers around one, then releasing it, smiling as it bounced back into its previous position. He could feel some of the worry slowly start to drain away as he got caught up in the moment.  
  
  
  
"Seth Cohen," the nurse called a few minutes later.  
  
And all the worry returned.  
  
"The one and only," Seth mumbled, standing up. Sandy stood up as well. "Where are you going?" Seth asked.  
  
"I'm going in there with you," Sandy explained, placing a hand on Seth's back.  
  
"I'm not a little kid; I'll be fine on my own."   
  
"No arguments."  
  
"But-"  
  
"No. Arguments."  
  
Seth sighed, his head drooping, defeated and annoyed. "Fine. Let's go."  
  
"I love being the parent," Sandy chirped cheerfully. "I get to win every argument."  
  
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After stepping on the scale and getting weighed, and a few other regular procedures, Seth hopped up on the examination table, his legs dangling off of the side. Sandy sat in a chair across from the table, his arms crossed, biting his lip. The doctor, Dr. Pearson, stood in front of Seth. He was a tall, good-looking man with a heavy British accent. He introduced himself, and stated that he normally worked exclusively on the oncology floor.  
  
"So, Seth, what seems to be the problem?" Doctor Pearson asked.  
  
Sandy answered for him. "He's been looking pretty bad for the past few days. Today he almost fainted, so I brought him here."  
  
Dr. Pearson nodded, looking thoughtful. "Seth?"  
  
Seth shrugged. "I dunno. I've been tired all the time, I guess."  
  
"Stomach pains?"  
  
Seth nodded reluctantly.  
  
"Headaches?"  
  
Seth nodded again, avoiding Sandy's eyes.  
  
"Fever?" Dr. Pearson pressed a few spots on Seth's neck gently, checking for swelling.   
  
"Yes," Sandy piped up. Seth shot him a dirty look.  
  
"Any sleep disturbances? Night sweats?"  
  
"Yes," Sandy said, nodding emphatically. "Last night especially."  
  
Seth frowned. He didn't remember that.  
  
"You went down a few pounds, I see," Dr. Pearson said, glancing down at Seth's charts. "Ten pounds since our last visit. You haven't been trying to lose weight have you?"  
  
Seth shook his head. "However, I'm wearing very light clothing. That can be an important factor to consider."  
  
Dr. Pearson snickered. "Seth, I'm going to ask you to remove your shirt please."  
  
"Not without at least dinner and a movie," Seth replied, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"Seth!"  
  
"Sorry, Dad."   
  
Dr. Pearson chuckled. "No problem. I just need to use my stethoscope here, check the old ticker. Then there's the scoliosis test. It says here that you have a slight curvature of the spine. I'd like to check up on that."  
  
Seth peeled off of his sweatshirt. Goosebumps instantly popped up on his skin, and he shivered.  
  
"Where'd you get that?" Dr. Pearson asked curiously.  
  
"Get what? The nipples? I was born with them," Seth replied flippantly.   
  
"Seth!"  
  
"No, that bruise on your shoulder." Dr. Pearson put a hand on his shoulder, squinting at the large black and blue bruise. "How long have you had it?"  
  
Seth glanced over at it. "I dunno." He shrugged. "Never even knew I had it."   
  
"There's one on your back too." Dr. Pearson frowned. He place the stethoscope over Seth's heart, listening attentively. After placing it on a few more spots, he took it off and turned to face Sandy. "I'll need to draw some blood, take a chest x-ray, and a biopsy. Then I think we'll get a clear idea of what exactly the problem is."   
  
Sandy nodded gravely. Dr. Pearson looked apprehensive, which was enough to make him nervous. Sandy knew next to nothing about medical related stuff, but the look on Pearson's face worried him.  
  
"Is there any history of illness in your family, or your wife's family? Heart problems, cancer, disease, psychological disorders?" Dr. Pearson asked.  
  
"Heart attacks on my wife's side," Sandy told him, twisting his wedding ring around on his finger. "Panic attacks on my side. Seth's gotten a few of those. My grandfather died of colon cancer. Kirsten..my wife..her mother died of ovarian cancer."  
  
Dr. Pearson nodded, scribbling a few notes onto his charts. Seth sat on the table, looking upset.   
  
"How soon after you draw the blood can we find out the test results?" Sandy asked.  
  
"We have some wonderful equipment here. We can have the results by tonight. I'd like to get Seth checked in. It's just a precautionary measure, but given what you told me about him almost fainting, it seems like the best idea to have him stay over night. I'll go make the arrangements for the x-ray and the biopsy, then come back to draw the blood." He gave Seth a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back." And with that, he disappeared out the door.  
  
Sandy studied Seth carefully. He was trying to appear nonchalant about the whole thing, but Sandy saw that he was trying to hide his fear.  
  
"Seth, I'm sure it's probably nothing."  
  
"Yeah." Seth wasn't in his usual talkative mood.  
  
"Do you need me to get you anything?" Sandy paused. "Are you going to have an anxiety attack?"  
  
Seth shook his head. "I haven't gotten one of those since Ryan got here."   
  
Sandy nodded. "Just don't worry about it. You'll be okay."  
  
Seth nodded, but he didn't look convinced. Sandy tried to quell the nervousness that was attacking his gut. He looked down at his hands to find them shaking. 'It's probably nothing,' he said to himself. It didn't help.  
  
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It was only after Seth's biopsy, blood test and x-ray had been taken, and he'd been set up in his very own hospital room, that Sandy remembered something important he'd forgotten.  
  
"Ryan," he said, smacking his forehead.  
  
"Hmm?" Seth looked up from the People magazine he'd been thumbing through. He was exhausted. The biopsy had been especially painful, even though he'd been put under anesthesia. They'd shoved an enormous needle into his hipbone, and the spot where he'd been stuck throbbed. He had the creeping suspicion that there was something Dr. Pearson wasn't telling him.  
  
"Nothing, kiddo. I'd just better call Ryan, let him know what's up." Sandy shoved his hands into his pockets.  
  
"Are you gonna call Mom too? And Grandpa? Is this like, a serious kinda thing?" Seth asked, shutting the magazine. "I mean, I'm wearing this hideous hospital gown, and nobody's told me any useful bit of information whatsoever. Does that mean something's wrong?"  
  
"I don't know," Sandy replied. He rubbed Seth's back gently with one hand. "I'll call your mom, just because she'd kill me if I didn't. I'm sure it's nothing, but she'll want to be told anyway. And Caleb will be there, so he'll find out too."  
  
Seth nodded. "But, you're right. It's probably nothing. Just stress..and stuff."  
  
Sandy nodded. "I'll be back in a flash."  
  
He gave Seth a tiny wave before leaving the room. He found a pay phone at the end of the hall. The first call would have to go to Ryan. He didn't want him to be worrying about where they were.  
  
"Hello?" Ryan picked up on the first ring.  
  
"Hey, Ryan. It's Sandy."  
  
"Hey, where are you? Is Seth okay?" Ryan sounded very concerned. "I just got home ten minutes ago and there was no note or anything."  
  
"Yeah, sorry about that. We're at HOAG."   
  
Dead silence on the other end.  
  
"It's probably nothing, but Seth almost fainted this morning, and they want to run some tests. Precautionary stuff. No big deal."  
  
Dead silence.  
  
"Ryan?"  
  
"Yeah, uh, can I come down there? I'd like to see him, you know." Ryan's voice sounded severely choked.  
  
"Yeah, that'd be good, I think," Sandy replied. "You don't have to though..and I'm not sure how much time you'll have. Visitor's hours only last another hour or so, I think."  
  
"I'll get a ride. Be there in about twenty minutes."  
  
"Okay." Sandy nodded. "Don't worry about him." He hung up the receiver gently, secretly glad that he'd get to share the worry with Ryan. He wished Kirsten were there.   
  
Kirsten. That call would be pretty tough. Once she heard that Seth was in the hospital, she'd want to be there right away, Caleb in tow. Although for once, Sandy wasn't sure he'd mind seeing Caleb. His pure hatred for the man might help him take his mind off Seth.  
  
Sandy picked up the phone with a heavy sigh, dialing the number Kirsten had written down for him.   
  
"Jamison and Associates, how may I help you?" A cheerful voice asked.  
  
"I need to speak with Kirsten Cohen." Kirsten had said she'd be in meetings with Jamison and Associates pretty much from the time she got off the plane, so it was a pretty safe bet that that was where she was.  
  
"I'm sorry, she's in a very important meeting right now. I can tell her you called, though. Who is this?"  
  
"This is her husband, Sandy, and I need to speak with her now. It's an emergency." Was it an emergency? Oh, God. What if it really was?  
  
There was a pause on the line. "One moment, please. I'll go get her."  
  
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Kirsten sat in the board room, quietly listening to the negotiations that were going on around her, when the door opened and Kristy, the overly perky receptionist, walked in. The room went silent. Kristy gave an embarrassed smile and walked over to Kirsten. Nobody asked what she was doing in there, most just gave her a look of outright contempt.  
  
"Kirsten Cohen?" she asked in a low voice. She was obviously very flustered.  
  
"Yes," Kirsten replied, conscious of the fact that her father was watching and listening to the whole exchange.  
  
"Your husband's on the phone. He says it's an emergency."  
  
Kirsten nodded, swallowing a lump that suddenly appeared in her throat, wondering what it could possibly be, assuming the absolute worst. She opened her mouth to say something, but choked on the words.   
  
"Excuse us, please, James?" Caleb asked. "We need to take a phone call from back home."  
  
"No problem at all, Caleb," James replied, with a friendly smile.   
  
"We won't be more than a minute," Caleb said, returning the smile. He and James were old friends.  
  
Caleb put a hand on Kirsten's shoulder as they made their way to the phone. "I'm sure everything's fine," he whispered into her ear, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.  
  
The smile never quite reached Kirsten's face. She picked up the receiver, taking a deep breath.  
  
"Sandy?"  
  
There was a long pause on the other end.  
  
"Hey, honey." Sandy's voice sounded strained and tired.  
  
"Sandy, what's wrong?" Kirsten closed her eyes, fearing the worst.  
  
"I'm at the hospital with Seth," Sandy replied, his voice barely audible.  
  
"Oh, God, Seth. What happened?" Kirsten felt Caleb wrap his arm around her shoulders, and she was glad to have him beside her.  
  
"He hasn't been feeling well for the past few days. This morning, if I hadn't caught him, he would've fainted. There's nothing to worry about at this point; they're just running some tests right now, but I figured you'd want to know." Sandy sighed. "It's probably nothing.."  
  
"We're coming home," Kirsten said softly.   
  
"You-you don't have to," Sandy said, in a voice that indicated that he needed her to.  
  
"Sandy, are you worried?"  
  
"Kirsten, I-"  
  
"Don't lie to me, Sandy."  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm worried." Sandy sounded on the verge of tears. "We'll get the results in a few hours."  
  
"How's Seth taking it?"  
  
"He's-he's scared," Sandy whispered. "I'm just trying to keep his mind off things."  
  
"Good idea," Kirsten replied. "Dad and I will be there in a few hours. HOAG?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"How's Ryan doing?"  
  
"He's on his way," Sandy replied. "Worried, I think."  
  
Kirsten nodded. "I'll see you in a few hours. I love you. Kiss Seth for me."  
  
"Love you too, honey. Please don't worry."  
  
"Goodbye Sandy."  
  
"Bye Kirsten."  
  
Kirsten hung up the phone. She exhaled loudly, trying to fight off the onslaught of emotions that hit her.  
  
Caleb hugged her tightly. "What's wrong, Kikki? What's wrong with Seth?"   
  
Kirsten looked into his eyes, and saw that Caleb was just as scared as she was. He'd always taken to Seth, his only grandchild, no matter how many times he moaned about him not being an athlete. Kirsten told him everything she knew.  
  
"I'll call my jet," Caleb said. "We'll be there in no time." He kissed Kirsten on the side of the head. "Don't worry, Kikki. I'm sure he'll be fine."  
  
"Thanks, Dad," Kirsten said softly, knowing that he was scared too.  
  
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Ryan rushed to Sandy as soon as he caught sight of him, sitting in one of the blue waiting room chairs, looking ten years older, and scared as hell. He looked up, and gave Ryan a weary smile.  
  
"Hey," he greeted him. "Last time I was in there, he was sleeping, but we can go see him. I just came out to wait for you."  
  
Ryan nodded, not knowing what to say.  
  
"Did Marissa give you a ride here?" Sandy asked curiously.   
  
Ryan shook his head. "Theresa did."  
  
"Your friend from Chino?"  
  
Ryan nodded. "I figured she'd be cool with it. I wouldn't have to comfort her or anything. Not like with Marissa."  
  
Sandy nodded knowingly. "Well, I guess we can go in to see him now."  
  
"You need anything?" Ryan asked quietly. "You don't look so hot."  
  
"No, I don't need a thing," Sandy replied with a forced smile. He needed to keep up a brave front for the boys, though on the inside he felt like the same scared kid who spent his nights in a Brooklyn alley, closing his eyes, waiting for Fate to stomp him to smithereens.   
  
Ryan walked slowly into Seth's room, not sure what to expect. He'd never visited anyone in the hospital that wasn't there because of getting beaten up or shot. What would Seth look like? Like he was barely hanging onto life?  
  
Seth looked, well, young, much more like ten than sixteen. He was sleeping, his lips parted slightly, the starched white blankets tucked under his chin, his hair matted down on his head. He looked peaceful, happy, Not sick, just little and young.   
  
Sandy shook Seth gently. "Seth, buddy. Ryan's here to see you." Sandy smiled at Ryan. "He made me promise to wake him up if you came."  
  
Seth blinked, groaned, and, processing what his dad had said, sat up, looking excited. "Hey dude!" he greeted him exuberantly.   
  
"Hey Seth," Ryan said, trying not let his nerves show through. He had to be strong for Seth. "I brought you a few things." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a copy of the newest Legion, and the always charming Captain Oats.  
  
Seth's face melted into a smile. "Thanks man." He yawned loudly. "So how was school? Did you see Summer?"  
  
"At lunch, yeah," Ryan replied. "She asked about you."  
  
"Yeah?" Seth asked eagerly.  
  
"She says she hopes you feel better."  
  
"Excellent."  
  
"So, uh, how you feeling?" Ryan asked, instantly feeling stupid. What the hell was he thinking?  
  
"Funny, I'm in a hospital and everybody just starts asking me how I'm feeling," Seth said in mock puzzlement. "I'm good, man. I'll be outta here and creating mayhem and merriment in no time."  
  
Ryan chuckled a little bit. "Cool."  
  
Doctor Pearson poked his head into the door. "I'm sorry, visitor's hours are over. Mr. Cohen, you may opt to stay with Seth overnight, but I'm afraid his friend here has to go."  
  
Seth frowned. "He's my brother."  
  
"Either way."  
  
"It's okay, Seth, it's fine. I'll go." Ryan patted Seth's knee, and turned and walked toward the door. "I'll see ya later…dude."  
  
"Dude…Chino just said dude!" Seth exclaimed.  
  
Ryan just laughed, waved, and left.  
  
"Mr. Cohen, may I speak with you privately?" Doctor Pearson asked.  
  
Sandy nodded, his heart skipping a beat. "Do you have the results?"  
  
Seth's ears perked up at the mention of his test results.   
  
"Not yet, I'm sorry." Dr. Pearson smiled apologetically. "Now, if you'd follow me outside, just for a moment."  
  
Sandy grunted in affirmation, and followed Dr. Pearson out of the room and into the hallway. Sandy spotted Ryan in the waiting room area, pacing back and forth nervously.  
  
"Mr. Cohen, when will Seth's mother be here?" Dr. Pearson asked, cutting right to the chase.  
  
"She was pulled out of a business meeting. She should be here in about two hours. Maybe one if she's on her father's private jet." Sandy crossed his arms, apprehensive. "Why? Is something wrong?"  
  
Dr. Pearson smiled reassuringly. "We don't know if anything's wrong yet. But, when the results do come in, do you want me to tell you even if she's not here?"  
  
Sandy weighed the options in his mind. If he knew beforehand if something was wrong, he could figure out a way to break it to Kirsten gently. On the other hand, if he got bad news with Kirsten by his side, he could go crazy and break stuff, and she could be the calm, rational one. Without her, he would be forced to be the latter, something he wasn't positive he could handle.  
  
"Wait for her," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "It'll be better that way."   
  
Dr. Pearson nodded, and turned to walk away, but Sandy grabbed his arm.  
  
"Also, Dr. Pearson…if it's bad…who's gonna tell Seth?"   
  
Dr. Pearson sighed. "Usually that's my job, and trust me, it's not one of my favorites."  
  
"I'll do it, if it it's bad. He could take it better from me. I'd feel better knowing he heard it from me." Sandy wrung his hands nervously.   
  
"That'd be okay," Dr. Pearson agreed, nodding his head slowly, then walking away. Sandy noticed that he no longer ended their little chats by saying that he shouldn't worry, because Seth would be fine.  
  
Sandy caught Ryan's eye, mid-pace. Sandy gave him a tiny wave, and Ryan gave him a nod. Sandy wanted to tell him that he could go home if he wanted to, but he doubted Ryan would listen to him. So he just walked back into Seth's room, trying his best to stay calm. Now was not the time for panic.  
  
End of chapter 2. Hope you all enjoyed it 


	3. Chapter 3

Standard disclaimers apply. Thanks for all the lovely reviews.   
  
Chapter 3  
  
Sandy sat by Seth's bedside for two hours. Mostly Seth slept, and when he was awake, he said very little, though he tried to seem indifferent about the whole ordeal. It was obvious to Sandy that while he was trying to be mellow so his son wouldn't worry, his son was doing the same thing in hopes that his father wouldn't worry. It was mind blowing; when had Seth grown up so much that he felt that he had to protect him?   
  
Sandy checked his watch, wondering when Kirsten would show up. He was sure that the results from the tests had to be in by then. He almost considered hunting down Dr. Pearson and demanding the results right then.   
  
Sandy traced Seth's hairline gently with his fingers. Crazy kid with his crazy hair. He smiled faintly. It probably wasn't anything big. Probably nothing. He was just being his usual hypochondriac self. Seth was a healthy sixteen year old boy. He was just under a lot of stress, and who could blame him? He had a heavy course load, a new brother, and a sort of girlfriend. He'd had only one out of those three last year. Stress, that was it.  
  
He sat back in his seat, and crossed his arms. When Kirsten got there, they'd get the results, and they'd find out that absolutely nothing was wrong with their son. Nothing at all.  
  
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Ten minutes later, Kirsten and Caleb entered Newport General Hospital. Ryan had given up pacing, and sat dejectedly on one of the blue chairs, his body scrunched up. His forehead was wrinkled in tense concern. When he caught sight of them, he stood up quickly.  
  
Kirsten wrapped her arms around Ryan in a gentle hug. She was glad that he was there, both for Seth and for Sandy.   
  
"Ryan, how are you?" She asked quietly, stepping back tentatively.  
  
"Fine, fine," Ryan replied, appearing uncomfortable in Caleb's presence.  
  
"Have you seen him?" Kirsten asked, trying not to appear overly worried.  
  
Ryan nodded, swallowing. He'd never felt so tongue-tied. "Sandy's with him now. He's lookin' pretty good." He paused. "Visitor's hours are over though. They kicked me out."  
  
Kirsten closed her eyes and nodded, not knowing what to believe. Her little boy was in the hospital, and so far, she had no clue how bad it was.   
  
Dr. Pearson appeared before them suddenly, a clipboard in one hand, an unreadable expression on his face.  
  
"Mrs. Cohen?" He asked.  
  
Kirsten nodded. "Yes. Are you Seth's doctor?"  
  
"Yes, I'm Dr. Pearson. If you'd follow me, you can see him now." Dr. Pearson paused. "We have the results from his tests, and when you're ready, I'll give them to you and your husband. I'll be in the conference room; it's right across the hall from Seth's room."  
  
"Okay," Kirsten replied. "Ryan, we'll be right back." She gave him a gentle smile. She glanced up at Caleb. "Um, this is Seth's grandfather. Could he come with me?"  
  
Caleb gave Dr. Pearson a steely look that basically said that he'd lose some vital organs if he didn't allow him to see his grandson.  
  
"That'd be fine," Dr. Pearson said. He nodded, led them to Seth's room, and quietly walked across the hall.  
  
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"Sandy."  
  
Sandy turned around, and a weary smile fell across his face. Kirsten was a sight for sore eyes, and never had she looked more beautiful than she did right then, in her slightly wrinkled business suit, with her long blonde hair disheveled and askew. God, she made the whole world beautiful, Sandy realized at that moment. It hadn't even occurred to him that her absence contributed to his fear, but when he saw her standing there, he knew that whatever the outcome, he and Kirsten would be able to lean on each other, and somehow, it'd be okay.  
  
"Hey baby," he said in a tired voice. He enveloped her into a big hug. He glanced up at Caleb, who for once didn't look at him with unabashed hostility. He gave him a hesitantly grateful smile.  
  
"How's Seth doing?" Kirsten whispered into Sandy's shoulder.  
  
"He's a big brave dog," Sandy replied, kissing her forehead gently.  
  
"Dr. Pearson said the results are ready, when we're ready," Kirsten said softly. "I'd like to see him for a minute before we go, okay?" She paused, her fingers brushing gently over Sandy's stubble. He hadn't shaved that morning. Somehow, her mind latched onto that unimportant fact, and for a few seconds that was all she could think about. She blinked suddenly. Sandy was staring at her, concerned. She forced a big smile. "Are you ready, hon?"   
  
Sandy nodded, eyeing her curiously. He turned to find Seth awake, blinking the sleep from his eyes, and sitting up. He rubbed his eyes with his fist, like a little kid who'd been up too late the night before. He saw Kirsten and gave her a tired grin.  
  
"Mommy!" His greeting got the reaction he wanted: laughter. Kirsten couldn't suppress a little chuckle at her son's antics.  
  
"Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling?" Kirsten strode to Seth's bedside, and kissed his forehead. She brushed a few errant curls off of his face.  
  
Seth gave her a lopsided grin. "I'm fine. You don't have to worry." He saw Caleb looking nervous, standing by the door. "Hey Grandpa. Come on over here; let me see how you've grown."  
  
Caleb gave a tiny grin, relaxing a little, and stood beside Kirsten. He patted Seth's knee comfortingly. "That's my grandson, always with a joke." He winked. "I'm surprised you don't have a girlfriend."  
  
Seth's eyes widened. "Oh, but I do," he replied with fake excitement, clapping his hands together. "Her name's Summer." He didn't mention the fact that they were pretty much "secret friends." He finally had something to throw in his grandpa's face; so what if he was stretching the truth slightly?   
  
"Good to hear." Caleb punched his shoulder lightly. He perched himself in the chair beside Seth's bed. For once, he didn't want to interfere in their lives. He actually looked fairly ill at ease, a stretch from his usual dignified demeanor.   
  
Sandy put his arm around Kirsten's shoulders. "Seth, your mom and I are going to go talk to the doctor for a minute, but we'll be right back."  
  
The smile faded from Seth's face. Sandy felt his heart sink. He knew. He knew the results were in and he was scared. He reached out and patted Seth's face lightly. Seth growled and pretended to bite his hand. Sandy laughed nervously.  
  
Seth nodded, fiddling with the medical bracelet on his wrist. "Okay..I'll see you in a minute. "Grandpa and I will have a scintillating discussion on world politics and ebonics."  
  
Everyone laughed edgily. "We'll only be a few minutes," Sandy repeated.  
  
"Yep. Give me the full report," Seth replied, smiling.  
  
"Count on it." Sandy gave a little wave, and the couple slipped out the door.  
  
"You ready?" Kirsten asked, taking Sandy's hand.  
  
"I'm ready," Sandy said, kissing Kirsten's hand gently. "Let's go."  
  
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Dr. Pearson sat, hands folded, behind a large wooden desk. Sandy and Kirsten quietly sat in the two chairs facing him.   
  
Sandy wanted to say something, wanted to ask what was wrong with his little boy, but he wasn't sure he could open his mouth without screaming at this point. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to reassure himself that Seth was a healthy teenage boy. He had to be. Sandy couldn't handle it if he wasn't.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen," Dr. Pearson began, clearing his throat. He paused, exhaling loudly and folding his hands.  
  
Kirsten's heart sank. Seth wasn't okay; she could feel it. Sometimes you knew before anyone told you that everything was turned upside down.  
  
"Seth has leukemia."  
  
Sandy closed his eyes, letting out the breath he'd been holding in. The world was spinning before him, and there was nothing to hang on to. His son had cancer. There was no way.  
  
"You're..you're sure?" Sandy wasn't aware if the raspy, choked voice coming out of his mouth was his or not.  
  
Dr. Pearson nodded sadly. "You'll probably want a second opinion, of course, but I'm afraid the results will almost definitely be the same. Now, I'm not going to assail you with information right now; I can only imagine how you're feeling right now, but I want you to be aware that leukemia is treatable and beat-able. Seth can go home tomorrow afternoon, but we'll need him on the oncology floor by next week. Before you check him out, we can set up a schedule for treatment, discuss symptoms, side effects, everything to that effect."  
  
Sandy glanced over at Kirsten. She was crying silently, her face twisted into a look of absolute pain. She looked over at him, and squeezed his hand gently.  
  
Kirsten saw Sandy's eyes pool up with tears, and she knew that he was liable to break down at any second. She rubbed her smooth hand over Sandy's, her fingers lightly tracing over his gold wedding band.   
  
"I'll leave you alone now, let everything sink in. I understand you want to be the ones to tell Seth?" Dr. Pearson asked, arching an eyebrow. He stood up.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I think that would be best," Sandy said quietly. He stood up and reached his hand out to shake Dr. Pearson's. "Thank you, doctor."  
  
Dr. Pearson nodded, looking somber. "Take as much time as you need." He quietly slipped out of the door.   
  
The silence was overwhelming.  
  
"Oh, God, Sandy…what are we going to do?"   
  
Sandy embraced Kirsten fiercely, feeling the tears escape his eyes at last. He inhaled deeply, inhaling her perfume and her comfort. All of the little feminine touches that he teased her about, but loved and adored about her at the same time. She knew how to keep him calm, which, the past proved, was a difficult task. Sandy knew he had to be the strong one, but he couldn't. He couldn't be strong. Any second now his knees would give way, and he'd be on the floor. He couldn't handle this. Seth was his child. The kid he'd held in his arms, tucked in at night, read stories to. He couldn't be sick. It wasn't fair by any means.   
  
Kirsten returned her husband's hug, needing something real to hang on to. She needed to cling to Sandy, inhale that woodsy scent that he always had, the one that wrapped her up in its arms, taking her home. That's where she wanted to be: home. Home, with her two healthy sons, and her wonderful husband, and no worries at all. She couldn't stand strong when it came to Seth; he was her little boy, and she'd do anything for him. She'd take the cancer away from him and set it on her own body if she could. But it was impossible. And that killed her.  
  
Neither of them said a word.  
  
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Ten minutes later they emerged from the conference room, their eyes puffy and red-rimmed, but the tears had stopped. They'd agreed that they couldn't cry in front of Seth, and didn't leave the room until they were certain they could keep their emotions in check.  
  
Kirsten grabbed Sandy's arm as his hand neared the doorknob of Seth's room. Sandy turned to face her, putting a hand on her waist. His eyes betrayed how scared he was, and he sniffed.  
  
"Are you going to be okay?" He asked gently, running his free hand through Kirsten's hair. "God, you..you have the most beautiful hair," Sandy stuttered, feeling a fresh wave of tears brewing somewhere inside. He couldn't even stop the words that poured from his mouth.  
  
Kirsten embraced him tightly. "We'll be okay, Sandy. All of us. We'll get through this."  
  
They stood in the middle of the hallway, hugging each other fiercely, for what seemed like an eternity. Sandy finally pulled back a little.  
  
"We have to do this," he reminded her.  
  
Kirsten nodded, trying to smile, but failing. "Who's going to stay with him tonight?" She rubbed his arm lightly, using her other hand to swipe away some of the tears that still clung to his cheek. He did the same for her.  
  
  
  
"Do you want to?" Sandy asked. "I mean, you could, but you've been in the air half the morning. You could go home, change out of the business gear and take a bubble bath. I could stay."   
  
Kirsten considered it for a moment, knowing Sandy wanted to stay with Seth just as bad as she did. "No, sweetie, you've been here all day. You must be exhausted. I'll be fine here with Seth." She paused. "And somebody has to explain all of this to Ryan. You're better at talking to him than I am."  
  
Sandy nodded. "You're probably right." He sighed, leaning against the door. "So, we tell him now."  
  
"Right." Kirsten kissed him gently on the lips. "I'm scared, Sandy." She sighed. "He's just a little boy."  
  
"I know," Sandy replied quietly. "I'm scared too." He turned the doorknob, and they stepped inside.  
  
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"His name's Captain-"  
  
Seth stopped talking as soon as the door opened. He took one look at his parents' puffy eyes and ashen faces and knew something was wrong. His heart sank. He clutched Captain Oats a little tighter.  
  
Sandy saw the brief flicker of fear on Seth's face, which quickly melted into a calm, passive expression. He was trying to be strong again. He'd seen their faces and known they had bad news. God, Sandy loved him.  
  
Caleb saw it too, though he couldn't hide the worry and anger on his face. Anger at what, Sandy wasn't sure, but there was definitely anger. He sat stiff in his chair, a livid scowl dominating his features.  
  
"So," Seth began, trying to sound casual, "what's the verdict?" He wrung his hands nervously without even realizing it.  
  
Sandy and Kirsten approached his bed, Sandy's arm resting comfortingly on her waist.   
  
"Seth," he began slowly, grasping his shoulder with his free hand. "Seth, you-you have leukemia." There was no easy way to say it, so he'd just said it. He couldn't stop his body from shaking.  
  
"Oh." The blank expression on Seth's face never wavered. He'd already slipped up and let his true fears show; he wasn't about to do it again. He stared intently at his blanket.  
  
Sandy tried to meet his gaze, but Seth refused to look up. He rubbed his shoulder gently. "It's treatable; Dr. Pearson said so himself."  
  
Seth nodded. He finally looked up, his eyes slightly red. He gave the tiniest of smiles. "Oh."  
  
"Your father has to take Ryan home, but I'll be spending the night here with you," Kirsten said, her voice a little shaky. "Dr. Pearson says you can go home tomorrow."   
  
"That'll be good," Seth said quietly, his voice choked.  
  
Sandy looked over at Caleb. "Caleb, we can set up the guest room for you if you need it." Caleb's house was being remodeled, and Sandy wasn't sure what kind of state it was in at the time.  
  
Caleb nodded, his face drawn tightly. "I appreciate that, Sanford." Somehow, he called him Sanford without the usual malice that using his full name seemed to entail. He stood up and brushed imaginary crumbs off of his jacket. He walked over to Seth. He bent down and gave him a stiff hug, clearly not accustomed to physical affection. "I'll be back tomorrow, son. Sanford, I'll be in the waiting room."   
  
Sandy nodded. Kirsten took Caleb's former seat, allowing Sandy a moment with Seth. Sandy smiled in appreciation.  
  
"Seth, kiddo, look at me, please," Sandy pleaded. Seth finally met his gaze. Sandy gave him a smile. "I'll be here tomorrow when you check out, okay?"  
  
Seth nodded, his chin trembling dangerously.  
  
Sandy lowered his voice. "And I know this is scary, son, but it'll be okay. This is treatable, and you're a strong kid. And through everything, you have your mom and me, and you have Ryan. No matter what. I promise." Sandy paused. "Okay?"  
  
Seth nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. Thanks a lot."  
  
Sandy hugged Seth tightly, his hands rubbing gentle circles on his son's back. He pulled back a little, and kissed Seth's forehead tenderly. Seth didn't even protest the overt sign of physical affection, something he usually balked at.   
  
"I love you, Seth," Sandy whispered.   
  
"I love you, Dad," Seth replied, tears in his eyes. He stubbornly refused to let them fall.  
  
"It'll be okay," Sandy repeated, patting Seth's knee gently. He didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to. He saw in Seth's eyes that he didn't want him to leave either. He had his hand on the doorknob, when Seth finally spoke up.  
  
"Does Ryan know?" He asked, trying to maintain a steady voice. It was obvious that Seth wanted to see his brother as well.   
  
"No..I haven't told him yet," Sandy replied.  
  
"Let him know I'm okay, huh? I don't want him to worry." Seth gave his dad a small smile.  
  
"Okay," Sandy answered. "I'll see you tomorrow, Seth." He nodded toward Kirsten, then left quietly.  
  
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Sandy leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and swallowing a lump in his throat. How could he be strong when his little boy was sick? His kid had cancer. He shook his head. He had to keep going, for Seth and for Ryan. He was the adult. He wasn't allowed mental breakdowns.   
  
His stomach rumbled suddenly, a reminder that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He wasn't entirely sure his queasy stomach could handle food, but, on the other hand, maybe it would stop the uncontrollable shaking. He spied a candy machine a few feet away, and shuffled over, pulling a few coins out of his pocket.  
  
He spied a Hershey bar that was calling his name. He needed chocolate. There was some chemical or other in it that was supposed to make you feel better. Did it make your son's cancer go away? Whatever it did, Sandy needed it. He slid the coins into the slot, and hit E3. Nothing happened.  
  
A jolt of anger surged through Sandy's body. His son was sick, he couldn't do a damn thing about it, and he couldn't even get a fucking candy bar to try and soften the blow even slightly. An angry sob escaped his lips, the tears falling yet again. Sandy reared back and kicked the candy machine, kicked it again and again, feeling the anger flow through his leg and attack the stupid machine.   
  
He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder gently, and his leg finally stopped. Sandy felt the anger drain from his body and he was empty. His leg throbbed slightly, he was breathing shakily, and he was empty. He looked over his shoulder, and was shocked at who he saw.  
  
Caleb was rubbing his back softly, a knowing look on his face. Sandy was in numb disbelief as his normally venomous father-in-law hugged him. It was completely surreal, he was crying while Caleb Nichol was comforting him. His arch enemy, one half of the former Gruesome Twosome was comforting him. He didn't know how to react.  
  
"Sandy, we should talk," Caleb said quietly. He led him to a nearby chair, as he took the one opposite it. "We don't have to worry about Ryan; he's asleep in his chair."  
  
Sandy wiped the tears from his eyes, feeling embarrassed for having cried in front of Caleb. He wasn't used to showing his emotions so freely. While he was an affectionate husband and father, a fact that Seth usually resented, he wasn't good at showing his pain.   
  
"Sandy, I know we've never gotten along in the past. Our contempt has always been mutual," Caleb began, folding his hands.  
  
"No argument there," Sandy rasped, chuckling slightly.  
  
"Yes," Caleb agreed, nodding. "Whatever our past, I know how you feel." He paused, staring at his hands, twisting his wedding band around on his finger. "Before Kirsten was born, I had a son."  
  
Sandy narrowed his eyes in confusion. He'd never heard anything about Kirsten having a brother.  
  
"Kirsten never told you, because she never knew," Caleb said, as if reading his mind. "His name was Thomas, and when he was three years old, he was diagnosed with a fatal renal disease." Caleb sighed. "He needed a kidney transplant in order to survive more than six months." He rubbed his face with both hands. "They never found a match."  
  
"Oh, God," Sandy said softly.   
  
Caleb held up a hand. "Don't say you're sorry," he requested softly. "I'm telling you this, Sandy, because those six months were the hardest of my life. Losing him was the most painful experience I've ever gone through, even more painful than when my wife died. Moving on and having more kids was difficult. I went through a period where I wasn't sure if I could go on anymore. What I'm trying to say is that I understand. I know how much pain you're in right now, how scared you are. I can put my contempt on hold for awhile, if you will."  
  
Sandy nodded. "I would like that." It was still surreal, Caleb Nichol showing he had a heart, but he appreciated it to an extent that he couldn't vocalize. His body was still shaking, and his heart still pounding, but he could make it through the night.  
  
Caleb patted him on the shoulder, before standing up. "I'll take my car to your house. I can set up the guest bedroom myself."  
  
"Thank you," Sandy said quietly. "I'll get Ryan and we'll meet you there."  
  
Caleb nodded shortly, and strode away briskly. Sandy stood up, weary from the day's events. He wiped the tears off on the sleeve of his jacket. He had to find Ryan and take him home, explain the situation. He sighed, and walked down the hall.  
  
Ryan was hunkered down in a blue plastic chair, arms folded, fast asleep. While Seth looked vulnerable and young when he was sleeping, Ryan looked angry and tense, his face scrunched up like a bulldog. Sandy jostled his arm slightly.  
  
"Ryan, Ryan, pal wake up. We've gotta go home."   
  
"Mmmmm," Ryan groaned. "What about Seth? I thought you were gonna stay with him." He yawned.   
  
"Kirsten's with him tonight," Sandy explained in a soothing voice. He helped Ryan out of his chair. "He'll be home in the morning. C'mon, kiddo."  
  
"Is he okay?" Ryan asked, as they walked out of the hospital's sliding doors, Sandy's arm around his shoulders. He yawned again.  
  
Sandy remained silent. He had wanted to tell Ryan when they were at home, maybe over a slice of pie or something. He'd wanted to put some distance between them and the hospital before he had to explain the whole thing again. But, he really couldn't wait. He couldn't lie to Ryan, or prolong telling him. He didn't need Ryan angry at him at that moment.  
  
"Sandy?" Ryan asked, concern and fear sparking in his brilliant blue eyes. His voice was panicked. "Sandy, what's wrong?"  
  
They were in the parking lot now, right in front of the Range Rover. Sandy scratched the back of his neck wearily.   
  
"Seth has leukemia," he said quietly, hating the word. The L-word. The worst swear imaginable in his world.  
  
"Shit," Ryan hissed, closing his eyes. Fatigue, and the shock of the news hit him, and his knees buckled. Sandy grabbed him before he could fall.  
  
"Don't you go out on me too," Sandy said quietly.   
  
"I'm sorry," Ryan whispered. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do? Shit." He paused, and then quickly turned back toward the hospital. "I need to see him." His voice held an intensity that Sandy hadn't heard since the whole Oliver debacle.  
  
Sandy grabbed Ryan's arm firmly. "Look, there's nothing you can do right now. He's probably sleeping. Just come home with me. You need a good night's sleep right now. Lord knows we all do. We're checking him out tomorrow," Sandy said. "Okay?"  
  
Ryan didn't say anything, but his eyes kept darting back and forth from Sandy's shoes to the hospital.  
  
"Okay, Ryan? Please, son." Sandy squeezed his shoulder gently.  
  
Ryan nodded finally. "Is there anything I can do?" He repeated.  
  
"He'll be back in the hospital within a week or so, but I'd like it if you made his time at home worthwhile…you know? I'd really appreciate it." Sandy smiled gently at Ryan, who wouldn't look at him.  
  
"No problem," Ryan agreed quietly. "How's he doing, I mean really?" His blue eyes finally flicked up to meet Sandy's, and Sandy saw a disturbing amount of emotion in them. And there was still that anger. That severe, intense, practically paralyzing anger, the emotion with which Sandy was the most familiar, the kind that crippled you until you finally found a release for it. Kids Ryan's age shouldn't have that much anger.   
  
"He's scared," Sandy admitted, "but he's being strong." He wasn't sure how much Ryan could handle at that moment.  
  
Ryan nodded. He shielded his eyes with his hand, not wanting to let his tears show. He reached out to open the car door.  
  
Sandy put his hand on Ryan's shoulder. Ryan turned to look at him, a tear trailing down his cheek.  
  
"Look, if you need to talk about this.."  
  
"Okay." Ryan nodded. "Okay." He slid into the car, obviously just wanting to be left alone with his thoughts for awhile.  
  
"Okay." Sandy walked around to the other side of the car, hands still shaking. "Okay." But he had only one thought in his head:  
  
"What if it's not okay?"  
  
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End Chapter 3. Please review 


	4. Chapter 4

Standard disclaimers apply, and mucho thanks once again to crazybeef, my lovely beta reader.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Seth lay quietly in the dark, his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. He was crying soundlessly; there was no way he could let his mom see how scared he was. He needed her to think he was sleeping, needed her to think that he couldn't hear her crying, which he could. He knew that he was usually the spineless, wimpy one in dire situations, but he suddenly felt the incredible need to protect all of those who loved them from his pain. Who knew how bad this was hitting everyone else? He was totally disrupting the natural routine everyone had settled into, and he really didn't want to make everyone's life wretched and miserable. Seth couldn't shake the feeling that everything was his fault, that he'd just demolished the happy family of four they'd worked hard to build since Ryan showed up in Newport. God, he couldn't stop his mind from racing...  
  
He almost laughed out loud. The one time he couldn't fall right to sleep...  
  
It was just so damn crazy. He had leukemia. Cancer. It was unheard of. There were no diseases in Newport Beach, and Seth never thought there could be. Everything was shiny and perfect. When his grandmother had died of ovarian cancer that had been a fluke, a one-time deal. The supervisor who let that one slip by was fired. There could be no disease in such a happy shiny place with such happy shiny people.  
  
He should've figured out that he was sick sooner. Things added up. He was tired all the time, he had noticed that he'd dropped a few pounds, his arms and legs hurt sometimes, and he got stomach cramps almost daily. Maybe if he'd told his dad sooner, something could have been done. Or then, maybe not.  
  
Seth shivered, thinking of chemotherapy, spinal taps, and radiation. No hair. He didn't know much beyond that, but what he imagined in the darkness of the hospital room was horrifying. He sniffed. What kind of hellish nightmare would this be? Could he live through it? That was the big one, living. As treatable as it was- and Dr. Pearson had dropped in earlier to assure him that yes indeedy it was- Seth knew he could die. And rotting away in a hospital bed, bald as a cue ball, was not exactly how he'd planned on dying. In the sixth grade he'd had to write a story about his own demise. At the time he hadn't been bothered, but now the whole thing seemed morbid and disgusting. Seth remembered what he wrote though. He'd died saving the world from certain destruction. A heroic death, not a death where everyone looked at you with pity in their eyes and watched you slowly decompose.  
  
God, it sucked.  
  
Seth was startled when he felt a gentle touch on his forehead. He bit his tongue to prevent from calling out to his mother as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. He wanted her to hug him and make it better. But he couldn't let her see how scared he was. He didn't want her to worry. He didn't want any of them to worry.  
  
He felt Kirsten kiss his forehead gently, and he closed his eyes, reveling in her comfort. He was glad that he she was there with him, glad that he wasn't completely alone, no matter how alone it felt with all of his thoughts ping ponging around his brain.  
  
"Love you, baby," Kirsten whispered tenderly, obviously thinking Seth was asleep.  
  
Seth waited until he was sure that his mother had sat back down in her chair before he whispered, so quietly that she couldn't hear it, "Love you too."  
  
.  
  
Kirsten closed her eyes, trying to sleep. She couldn't do it, couldn't stop thinking about everything that could happen. It was hard to be optimistic when the world was falling all around you.  
  
It was all just hard to handle right then. Maybe a month from then, she'd be used to the idea of her son having leukemia, but right then she couldn't even try to wrap her mind around it. One day he was her goofy son, cracking them up at dinner when he was making his chicken legs dance, the next day he had cancer. Why him? What had he done wrong? He was such a sweet boy; he didn't deserve it.  
  
Kirsten exhaled loudly. She shifted in her chair, trying to find an even remotely comfortable position. She sighed and reached out to grab a tissue from the box on the night stand. Her arm hit a glass vase, knocking it off the table. There was a loud crash, and she winced.  
  
"Shit," she muttered softly. She crossed the room carefully, groping across the wall searching for a light switch. Her fingers finding it, she flipped the switch.  
  
The room filled with light, and Kirsten got a good look at the damage. She groaned. Tiny shards of glass were scattered across the ground in a large pool of water. Limp yellow flowers lay among the mess. She approached the destruction wearily. Her eyes traveled up instinctively to check up on Seth.  
  
"Seth?" She said quietly, seeing he was awake. Though his eyes were closed, she could see the tears sailing down his bright red cheeks and the slight trembling in his jaw. "Seth, sweetheart, I know you're awake." She paused. "Talk to me, please."  
  
Seth opened his eyes. He gave Kirsten a tiny smile. "Hey, Mom," he croaked. "How's it hangin'?"  
  
Kirsten snickered, perching herself on the edge of Seth's bed. She wiped a tear from his cheek with her thumb.  
  
"You want to talk about this?" She asked quietly. "I'm awake, you're awake..."  
  
"There's glass all over the floor.." Seth trailed off. "It's like right out of 'Family Ties,' Mom."  
  
"Seriously, Seth. I asked at dinner, you said no, you were fine."  
  
"I was trying to figure out why the gravy on the mashed potatoes was bright yellow," Seth replied.  
  
"God, Seth, stop. You don't have to hide the fact that you're scared. We can talk about this; make it a little less scary for all of us." Kirsten squeezed his hand lovingly.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it," Seth answered, sniffling slightly. He wiped his face with his hand, sniffing. "Well, maybe kind of."  
  
"I'm here to listen," Kirsten said softly.  
  
Seth snickered. "I was hoping you'd have something brilliant to say. I'm fresh out of witty banter right now."  
  
"Are you scared?" Kirsten asked quietly, running her fingers through his hair.  
  
Seth nodded, his face scrunching up, more tears slipping down his cheeks.  
  
Kirsten rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "Shhh...shhhhhh....it's okay to be scared," she told him quietly. She kissed the top of his head softly.  
  
"I just wish I could know what's gonna happen," Seth admitted in a hushed voice. His face was a clear expression of all the emotion he'd worked so hard to hide earlier that night: anger, embarrassment, fear, and uncertainty. Kirsten wanted to hold him in her arms until they could find a cure for his disease.  
  
"We all do," Kirsten replied. "But, hey, for once are you happy that we're rich, Newport Beach snobs? We can afford all this, no problem." She tried to laugh a little as she brushed a tear off of her own cheek.  
  
Seth snickered. "How'd you and Dad ever manage to be humble with that assload of money? I mean, you have way more money than Julie Cooper ever did, and you're not even half as conceited as she is."  
  
Kirsten gave her son a gentle smile. "I appreciate that, son."  
  
"Do you think things'll be okay?" Seth asked, sitting up slightly. He swallowed. He didn't want Kirsten to know that he was worried, but he couldn't help himself. He had to know.  
  
"I don't know what to think," Kirsten admitted, "but I know you, Seth. You're a strong kid. You can beat this." She bit her lip, feeling as if she'd said the exact wrong thing at that moment, though what the right thing to say was, she'd never know.  
  
"I hope so," Seth replied weakly. "I don't exactly feel strong right now, with this goddamned bedpan, and the cretin hospital gown, the wheelchair in the closet. I feel like everyone's either gonna pity me or be afraid of me." His voice dropped considerably. "Not sure which one is worse."  
  
"All that matters is us," Kirsten said firmly. "And we'll treat you exactly as you want us to treat you, no matter what. But we won't turn off our concern for you, sweetie. Things are going to change, and we all have to accept that."  
  
Seth nodded. "How much do you know about leuk...my uh...my problem?" Saying the word was impossible, he discovered.  
  
"Not a lot," Kirsten admitted. "Dr. Pearson would probably better for fielding these kinds of questions."  
  
"Please. You just have a crush on him," Seth snickered. "Him and his crazy British accent. You just want to keep him talking so he can say something British, like schedule or something."  
  
Kirsten smiled. She had actually been more focused on Seth than what his doctor looked like, though she had to admit that when he'd brought her a second pillow that night, she'd noticed how cute he was. Nothing compared to Sandy, of course, but cute.  
  
"He's no match for your father in the looks department," Kirsten teased, ruffling Seth's hair.  
  
"I guess massive eyebrows are a turn-on for you," Seth said, a quiet smile dancing across his lips.  
  
Kirsten giggled. She kissed Seth's forehead again. "You have your father's sense of humor."  
  
Seth clutched his heart in mock pain. "Why must you wound me with your words?" He moaned.  
  
"Your dad is a very funny man," Kirsten insisted.  
  
"Hah! That's like saying you're a great chef," Seth laughed.  
  
"Hey!" Kirsten tried to look mad, but she couldn't hold back a slight giggle. She smiled. "You really are a lot like your dad. He used to look just like you, and talk like you. Always telling crazy stories, making everyone laugh. And he loved to make people laugh. It helped him cover up all of his pain and insecurities." She paused. "Just like you."  
  
Seth nodded slowly. He knew bits and pieces of his father's past. He knew that he'd been abused by his mother's boyfriends as a kid, in every sick way possible, and that he'd been homeless on and off, running away and living in an alley behind a local Wendy's. There'd been pain in his life. He hated to think he'd be adding to it.  
  
"And baby, I know you want to keep up a brave front for everyone else, but you don't have to around me, and you don't have to around your father. Or Ryan even. Maybe when you're around the kids at school, or other people you're not too close to you have to be the clown; they might not be the best people to spill your guts to, but we're your family, and you can tell us anything." Kirsten gave Seth a hopeful look, praying that he'd respond to her well. She squeezed his hand gently.  
  
"Okay." Seth nodded. "Yeah, that's good. I'll try to come to you or dad or Ryan if I really need to talk."  
  
Kirsten smiled. "I'm glad." She cleared her throat. "Now get to sleep," she ordered. "Tomorrow's gonna be a long day. You need your rest." She kissed his cheek lovingly, and patted his shoulder.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Seth said, saluting weakly.  
  
"I'll clean up here," she said, gesturing to the mess on the floor. She grabbed Captain Oats off of the bedside table, and handed him to Seth, who smirked, and accepted it. "Where'd you ever get him?" Kirsten asked, wrinkling her brow. "I don't remember your father or me buying it for you."  
  
"Grandma bought it for me when I was like, five years old," Seth answered, tracing his fingers along the horse's back. His grandmother had given him Captain Oats for his fifth birthday, right around the time when she'd gotten really sick. That had been back at the old house, with the porch swing and the faint smell of mold, the house that had reached almost mythical status in the minds of both Sandy and Seth.  
  
Kirsten nodded knowingly. "Goodnight, Seth. I love you."  
  
"Night, Mom." Seth closed his eyes, sniffed, and swiped the rest of the tears from his cheeks. "Love you."  
  
A few minutes later, after the water and glass had been wiped up and thrown out, Kirsten looked up at Seth, and a smile found her face. His chest was rising and falling in an even, steady rhythm. He was asleep, or faking it well.  
  
She reached over and flicked off the light.  
  
Ryan pulled open the door of the house. He couldn't sleep, and even the expansive pool house was so small and stuffy that he could hardly breathe in there. One thing was certain; he couldn't sleep. Seth was his brother and his best friend, and everything Trey could never be. Ryan didn't even want to think about what Newport would be like without Seth.  
  
God, he needed a smoke. Too bad he'd thrown all of his cigarettes out, after Kirsten practically forced him to quit. It wasn't that he'd had some kind of sick, chain-smoking habit. He'd only had the occasional smoke when he was under an extreme amount of stress, or after a fight. Now he was craving a cigarette so badly his whole body itched.  
  
Ryan padded softly into the kitchen, looking for some kind of cigarette substitute. He froze when he saw Sandy digging through the fridge. He wasn't expecting company. He liked Sandy a great deal, but he really didn't want to talk about what was going on. He didn't want to end up crying in front of him, or saying something that would make Sandy even more upset than he already was. If he had, he would've taken Sandy's offer and occupied the other guest room, the one Caleb wasn't staying in.  
  
Sandy turned, a container of ice cream in his hand, and spotted Ryan. Ryan studied his face intently. He looked like he'd been crying for a good long time, and his face was lined and worn. He'd never been able to figure out how old Sandy was until Seth told him one day. Sandy Cohen was the kind of lively, youthful man with just the right amount of mischievousness and amused grins to make him appear to be younger than he really was. Right then, however, Sandy looked old and beaten down, his normally spry and upright body hunched over, his eyes dead and bloodshot.  
  
"Hey, Ryan," he greeted him softly. He held up the ice cream. "Want some?" he offered, pulling open a drawer and grabbing two spoons. He attempted a smile that seemed to leave before it even had a chance to make an impact on his features.  
  
Ryan really didn't feel like having any. "Okay," he agreed quietly, shrugging.  
  
Sandy got two bowls from the cabinet above the stove and started scooping and serving.  
  
"Sit down," he ordered, gesturing to one of the counter chairs. "Chunky monkey, Seth's favorite."  
  
Ryan grunted in response. He looked up at Sandy, who was totally focused on the task at hand, probably trying not to think of Seth, lying in the hospital....  
  
"How you doing?" Ryan asked quietly.  
  
"I'm all right, kid," Sandy replied sadly. He sighed. "It's hard, is all. Wish there was something I could do. You become a father and you automatically think you can fix every problem in your kid's life. Nothing that can't be healed with milk, cookies, and paternal preaching." He paused, sniffed, and looked off into the distance briefly. "I was damn good at making all the boogeymen go away." He shook his head vigorously. "This now..not something I can fix so easily."  
  
"I wish there was something I could do too," Ryan answered in a tiny voice.  
  
"My body hasn't stopped shaking since they gave me the news," Sandy admitted with a frown. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't be telling you this."  
  
"It's okay," Ryan answered with a shrug. "I don't talk much..I can listen."  
  
"Well Ryan, I did want to talk to you about this," Sandy said, sliding a bowl and spoon over to him. He replaced the ice cream in the fridge and sat down beside Ryan. "I tried to talk to you when we got home, but you disappeared on me."  
  
"Sorry..I didn't really know what to say," Ryan admitted, scratching the back of his neck wearily.  
  
"It's fine," Sandy affirmed quickly, mashing up the ice cream with his spoon. "I just figured it would be good if we discussed this. I know how you are; you won't talk about how you're feeling unless someone forces you to. And even then, not always." He paused. "I know you and Seth are very close."  
  
"My brother."  
  
Sandy smiled warmly at the younger boy. "And I know that all of this is going to change things..for all of us. I figure you need someone to talk to about all this. You're not going to want to upset Kirsten or Seth, you're uh, not with Marissa anymore..but me..you can talk to me. I promise." He caught the look on Ryan's face. "Ah, so you don't want to upset me either."  
  
Ryan nodded, looking guilty. He straightened up a bit, remembering something. "But, you need someone to talk to too. I know you're really upset about it."  
  
Sandy shrugged. Now it was his turn to look guilty. "But I'm your father. I'm not allowed to be upset."  
  
"You are my father," Ryan agreed, that all too familiar warmth spreading across his chest again. "And you are allowed to be upset."  
  
"I guess whether I'm allowed to be or not, I'm gonna be," Sandy replied, shaking his head ruefully. "But I want you to come talk to me if you have questions, or if you're upset. Look, I'm barely hanging on right now, but it's not going to help me any if you go around trying to be a big man, while you're torn up inside. So talk to me if you need to. Okay?"  
  
Ryan nodded. "That would be good, I think," he said softly. "Thank you." He sniffled. "Right now though, I think I'll try and get some sleep."  
  
Sandy nodded. "I think that would be best for both of us. We should be getting to the hospital early tomorrow morning. I'll let you miss school, but just for tomorrow. Don't want you to fall behind."  
  
Ryan nodded, and the two ate their ice cream in silence. Ryan's eyes flicked over to Sandy, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. Sandy's body was trembling violently. Ryan didn't know what to say or do, and he definitely didn't want to know what it felt like to be in Sandy's shoes, how painful it had to be, how powerless he must've felt. It was hard enough for Ryan, and he'd known Seth Cohen for less than a year.  
  
"You gonna be okay?" Ryan asked quietly.  
  
Sandy gave a weak smile. "Stop worrying about me kid; I'll be fine." He cleared his throat. "Let me take your bowl." He grabbed Ryan's empty bowl and dumped both bowls in the sink. He gave Ryan a sad look. "If you want, that guest bedroom is still open for you. I made up the bed and everything." His eyes seemed to plead with him, telling Ryan that Sandy wanted him closer, as if by keeping him in the main house he could keep him safe, like he wasn't able to do for Seth.  
  
Ryan considered it for a moment, and then nodded. "Thanks. I really..I really appreciate that." He rose from his chair.  
  
For a brief moment the man and the boy faced each other, each worried about the other, mutually worried about Seth. Sandy took a step toward Ryan and wrapped his arms around him in a fatherly hug.  
  
Ryan returned the hug weakly. He wasn't used to physical affection, but he had to admit that it felt good at the moment. Sandy was his father, there was no doubt about that anymore.  
  
"Goodnight, Ryan," Sandy said quietly.  
  
"Night Sandy," Ryan replied. He watched Sandy walk up the stairs to his bedroom, and he sighed, making his way toward the other guest bedroom.  
  
Sleep was calling his name, and he intended on answering.  
  
"Eat your breakfast," Kirsten ordered gently, poking Seth's plastic fork into his untouched home fries.  
  
"I'm not hungry," Seth insisted, looking glum. "Besides, I refuse on principle to eat anything that looks like bat guano."  
  
"Seth, honey, please. At least take a few bites, huh?" Kirsten begged wearily.  
  
Seth sighed dramatically. He glanced up at the television mounted to the wall. A Spanish soap opera was playing on mute. His stomach rumbled and twisted. He was hungry, but he wasn't positive he could keep anything down at that point. The prospect of going home, even though it'd just be for about a week, excited him, but he couldn't seem to muster up any enthusiasm at the moment.  
  
He brought a forkful of the liquid-like home fries up to his mouth, inhaled the revolting smell, and gagged. He dropped the fork on his plate and gave a sputtering, choking, cough.  
  
Kirsten snatched the tray away quickly, setting it down on the table. "Sorry, kiddo," she said quietly. She didn't understand how the hospital cafeteria could have pretty decent food, but serve utter crap to their patients.  
  
"I'll eat the Jell-O," Seth offered weakly. "Red, my favorite." He smiled.  
  
Kirsten handed him the tiny container of Jell-O, and rubbed his head affectionately.  
  
"Guess I'll have to get used to the crappy food," Seth said, sighing, resigned. "But that one nurse that came in here this morning was pretty hot."  
  
Kirsten rolled her eyes, but laughed.  
  
"Thanks for staying with me last night," Seth said, slurping up some Jell- O. "You must be exhausted."  
  
"I'm fine," Kirsten replied quietly, thinking about how quickly her boy had grown up.  
  
Seth put his empty Jell-O container on the night stand. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.  
  
"I can't wait to get home," he told his mother. "I've been itching to play X-Box all day." He paused. "I'll just have to tear Dad away from Mario Kart."  
  
Kirsten smirked and shook her head. "Dad, Grandpa, and Ryan will be here soon."  
  
"You talked to them?" Seth asked, sitting up a little straighter.  
  
Kirsten nodded. "You were still asleep. I slipped out and called them from the pay phone. They're bringing you a change of clothes."  
  
Seth nodded, smiling to himself. He couldn't wait to see his father and brother. Now all he needed was Summer, and maybe he could forget about the cancer.  
  
Maybe.  
  
"You have to eat something."  
  
Sandy and Ryan were sitting at the kitchen table, staring at each other.  
  
"I will if you will," Ryan said quietly.  
  
"Not fair. I'm the parent, I get to make the double standards," Sandy replied. "But really, Ryan, you have to eat before we go see Seth."  
  
Ryan sighed. He didn't want to waste any time getting to the hospital, and he was sure that Sandy didn't want to either. In fact, he was certain that Sandy was just trying to be a good father and force him to eat, when his was really itching to leap into the car and speed off to the hospital.  
  
"Look, if I grab a bagel and eat it on the way..is that okay?" Ryan asked, running a hand through his blonde hair.  
  
Sandy nodded emphatically. "Get it, and let's get the hell out of here." He stood up, and grabbed the bag with Seth's clothes is in it.  
  
Caleb was sitting by the door, tapping his fingers, impatiently waiting for them. He raised his eyebrows as they approached.  
  
"About time," he mumbled. He seemed to suddenly remember how he'd vowed to put his disdain for Sandy on hold, and he swallowed. "Let's go," he said in a low voice.  
  
"All..all right then," Sandy said, his voice raspy.  
  
He locked the door behind them, and they set off for the hospital.  
  
Seth shot up in bed as soon as the door opened. His shoulders slumped as he realized it was just Dr. Pearson, who looked annoyingly cheerful, like the kind of adult who tried to laugh and fake happiness in an effort to make everything seem okay. Well Seth wasn't buying it.  
  
"Morning, Seth," Dr. Pearson said cheerfully. "Mrs. Cohen."  
  
"Kirsten," she corrected quickly.  
  
Dr. Pearson nodded. "Yes, Kirsten." He paused. "I understand your husband will be here soon."  
  
Kirsten nodded. She glanced over at Seth, who seemed irked that Dr. Pearson was talking as if he wasn't in the room. She gave him a reassuring smile.  
  
"When he arrives, I'd like to get you all together in the conference room. We can discuss the symptoms, and schedule treatment sessions," Dr. Pearson said.  
  
Kirsten nodded again, unsure of what to say. It was all so overwhelming. She caught Seth's eye. He was scratching his shoulder nervously. He gave her a tiny smile that quickly faded into a frown.  
  
"So, how are you feeling his morning, Seth?" Dr. Pearson asked, finally turning his attention to the patient. He consulted his clip board. "Your temperature's a little high, but your heart rate is normal."  
  
Seth shrugged. "Fine." It was a lie. His arms and legs screamed out in pain, and his head throbbed slightly. And that undying fatigue persisted.  
  
"Good," Dr. Pearson said, nodding slightly. "I'll be in the conference room, when you're ready."  
  
"Thank you," Seth said, almost silently, to Dr. Pearson's retreating figure. He sighed, and looked at his mother. "When's Dad and Ryan getting here?" he asked.  
  
"Soon, honey, soon," Kirsten assured.  
  
Five minutes later, the door opened again. Seth felt a grin spread across his face as Sandy, Ryan, and Caleb entered. Sandy had a tight, phony smile on his face, but to Seth he looked dead. Ryan had a concerned expression on his face. He shifted his weight from side to side, looking uncomfortable. Caleb was his usual blank slate, looking stern and dignified in his business suit.  
  
"Hey, son," Sandy greeted him, striding toward his bed and mussing up his hair affectionately. "How ya feeling?"  
  
"I'm okay, Dad," Seth said, feeling vaguely edgy. Everyone's attention was on him, and he wasn't sure he liked it.  
  
"That's good, that's good." Sandy's chin trembled slightly as he rubbed Seth's back soothingly.  
  
Seth peeked around Sandy, spying Ryan hiding in the corner. "Hey, man. What's up?"  
  
Ryan came around so he was standing next to Sandy. He held out his hand to Seth, who clasped it, smiling.  
  
"How's life at the Cohen abode without me?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
"Not nearly as bizarre," Ryan replied huskily.  
  
"I wouldn't think so." Seth smiled sneakily. "Play any Mario Kart with the Ample Eyebrows over there?" He wanted to talk more with his best friend and brother, but not with everyone else in the room.  
  
Everyone in the room chuckled nervously. Ryan smiled genuinely.  
  
"Ha, ha, ha," Sandy said wryly, but his smile was warm.  
  
"Hey Grandpa, you think you could work a little magic, get me some McDonald's or something?" Seth asked. "All they've been given me here is miscellaneous squirrel parts and red Jell-O."  
  
"I'll see what I can do," Caleb answered quietly. He settled into the corner of the room, not wanting to disturb anyone. He looked around, making a mental note to get Seth a nicer room when he had to check in for the longer haul. It was a private room, but fairly simple. The walls were a depressing gray color, the television was ridiculously small, and the walls were dull and boring. He wouldn't have his only grandson spending his days in something so unsatisfactory. He glanced over at Ryan. He was not ready to accept him as his grandson yet, and he probably would never be, but he didn't mind him as much anymore. He was a quiet kid, unspoiled, tough. Not a big nuisance, and helpful to boot.  
  
Kirsten grabbed Sandy's arm. "Sandy, Dr. Pearson wants us to meet him in the conference room so we can discuss..everything."  
  
Sandy nodded gravely. "Okay." He turned to face Seth. "I brought you a change of clothes." He tossed a plastic bag onto Seth's lap. "Come out when you're ready, and then we'll all go see Dr. Pearson together."  
  
"All of us?" Seth asked, eyes flicking to Ryan and Caleb.  
  
"I don't have to be in there," Ryan said quietly, looking downright queasy. His eyes widened. "Unless you want me to be, man."  
  
"Nah, it's fine," Seth answered quietly. "Grandpa?"  
  
Caleb shook his head. "I think it should just be you and your parents."  
  
Seth nodded solemnly, closing his eyes. "Okay. So this is real." He sighed. "Wow. Well, all right. Let's do it." He ran a shaky hand through his hair.  
  
Sandy squeezed Seth's shoulder gently. "We'll be in the hall," he said quietly. He looked at everyone else, gesturing with his eyes for them to all exit.  
  
Sandy shut the door behind them all, giving Seth one last smile before entering the hallway.  
  
Ryan leaned against the wall, his head tilted upwards, and his eyes closed. He could hardly breathe. He hated seeing Seth in there, when he couldn't help him. He couldn't be the big brother and take all the punches aimed at Seth. This was cancer; one huge punch that Seth had to take head-on, no help.  
  
"You okay Ryan?" Sandy asked softly.  
  
Ryan looked into his eyes and knew he couldn't lie. He shook his head. "I hate hospitals."  
  
"Me too," Sandy replied quietly. "Guess we're gonna have to get used to being here," he added.  
  
"I saw a pretty hot nurse back there," Ryan offered, cracking a smile.  
  
"Well at least it'll be bearable then," Sandy remarked with an amused smirk. He glanced over at Caleb and Kirsten. Caleb had his arms wrapped around her. She wasn't crying, but that could change at any second.  
  
"I'm worried about her," Ryan admitted, seeing where Sandy was looking.  
  
"She's tough as nails," Sandy answered. "She'll be holding me up in awhile. She just needs some time to get used to it." He paused. "Everyone does."  
  
"I'm scared," Ryan said quietly.  
  
Sandy took a good look at Ryan. He looked much younger than seventeen. His blue eyes were bigger than usual, wide and innocent, looking for answers that Sandy didn't have. Sandy had never seen Ryan look that vulnerable before; it was always tough and passive with him. Not anymore.  
  
"I know, kiddo," Sandy whispered. "It'll be okay though. I promise." He put a comforting hand on Ryan's shoulder.  
  
Ryan nodded, knowing he couldn't promise a thing like that, but also knowing that this was no time to correct him. He blinked back tears, and crossed his arms, upset.  
  
Seth exited his room, clad in jeans and a black Nirvana T-shirt. He shoved his hands into his back pockets and sighed. Kirsten broke away from her father and edged closer to Sandy.  
  
"Okay then," he said, eyes downcast.  
  
Ryan patted Seth's back. Sandy put his arm around Seth's shoulders. Seth's back stiffened, but he didn't pull away, not wanting to hurt Sandy's feelings. He really didn't want comfort right now. He was scared that he might burst into sobs if all this love stuff kept up.  
  
"You ready?" Kirsten asked, grabbing the doorknob of the conference room.  
  
Both Seth and Sandy nodded in affirmation, though neither of them could honestly say they were ready. Kirsten twisted the knob, and the family entered the conference room, each of them scared, none of them wanting to say it. 


	5. Chapter 5

Standard disclaimers apply.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Dr. Pearson stood up when the Cohens entered the room. He shook hands with each of them, and gestured for them to sit in the three chairs he'd set out for their used use.  
  
Seth sat in the middle of his parents, and instantly slouched down into himself, as if this would help him hear what he knew he'd inevitably have to hear. He suddenly felt like a little kid again, eight years old, and everything in his world depended on what the adults around him did or said or told him to do. It was like all that teenage independence he'd been working all his life to achieve was slowly draining away.  
  
"Okay, now," Dr. Pearson began, folding his hands. "I don't want to attack you with all the information in one sitting, but I think you need to know at least the basics. I have compiled some reading material for you to go over." He distributed three thick manila folders to each of the Cohens.  
  
"Thank you," Kirsten said, taking hers gratefully. She glanced over at Sandy, who grabbed two folders, seeing that Seth was not making the move to grab his.  
  
"Now, Seth, I can't sugar coat this for you. Do you understand that?" Dr. Pearson asked.  
  
"Yes," Seth croaked weakly.  
  
"There are a few different types of leukemia. Seth's type is known as acute lymphocytic leukemia." Dr. Pearson paused. "What that basically means is that the abnormality in Seth's white blood cells is fairly extreme, and they cannot carry out their normal routine. This type of leukemia becomes more severe quickly. It is the most common strain of leukemia in children, though it also occurs in adults. There a number of symptoms that, if you haven't already experienced, you probably will shortly. These symptoms include fevers, night sweats, frequent infections, feelings of weakness or fatigue, headaches, bleeding and bruising easily, bone and joint pains, swelling of the abdomen, swollen or inflamed lymph nodes, and dramatic weight loss. More violent symptoms will include confusion, vomiting, sores on the eyes or skin, seizures, decreased muscle control, and swelling of the testicles."  
  
"Are all those guaranteed?" Sandy asked, concerned. He licked his suddenly dry lips, feeling his fists clench and unclench unconsciously.  
  
"Not necessarily," Dr. Pearson said. "Now, based on Seth's condition, I would recommend chemotherapy rather than any of the other treatments. He'll need to be treated right away, as soon as we can get a second opinion on my diagnosis.  
  
"This is not going to be easy." Dr. Pearson cleared his throat. "You can overcome this disease, but it will take a lot of work, and it will take a lot out of you, both emotionally and physically. You will lose your hair, though it can grow back later on. You will also experience severe nausea, as well as fatigue. Spinal taps will be necessary; they involve sticking a foot-long needle into your spinal column in order to remove and test your cerebrospinal fluid for signs of problems."  
  
Seth swallowed a lump in his throat. He wasn't sure he could listen anymore. He propped his elbow up on the arm of the chair and tried to shield his eyes with his hand. Sandy rubbed his knee gently with one hand, while Kirsten's fingers brushed gently against his free hand comfortingly.  
  
"Chemotherapy will involve using drugs to kill the leukemia cells in your body. You will most likely have the drugs injected through a catheter in your chest. Chemotherapy entails two cycles: the treatment period, and the recovery period. For the time being, while you are in chemo, I'd like to keep you in the hospital. This will start in about a week, and as your treatment progresses, you can receive your chemo as an outpatient.  
  
"All of these procedures will be painful, and side effects are common," Dr. Pearson continued. "But they are all necessary steps in the process of getting better. And you can get better, I assure you. However, we'll need your cooperation and trust. Do you think you could do that, Seth?"  
  
Seth removed his hand from his face and nodded, tears filling his eyes. His body quavered jerkily, but he tried to smile.  
  
Dr. Pearson gave him a comforting smile. "You can beat this, Seth. Your health record up until now has been practically impeccable, and the oncology department here at HOAG is one of the finest in the state. He paused. "I know this is a lot to take in right now. There is a cancer support group for teens run through the hospital. Private and group counseling is available if you'd like." He looked at Kirsten, then Sandy. "For all of you. It's free for any members of the family."  
  
"Is that all?" Sandy asked, wondering what the hell more they could throw at him.  
  
Dr. Pearson nodded. "That's all I think you can handle at the moment. Anything else you need to know is in that folder. If there are any questions you have for me, I'd be happy to answer them. I'm usually working on the oncology floor, so I'll probably be working with Seth throughout the duration of his leukemia."  
  
"Isn't there some kind of surgery?" Kirsten asked, trying to recall what little she'd picked up on from her high school health class. "A bone marrow transplant or something?"  
  
Dr. Pearson nodded. "We will need to test all available members of your family to see if there's a match. The surgery is admittedly painful, but it will better in the long run for Seth's health. I'd like to get the family tested within the week. You'll be tested for Allogenic stem cell transplantation as well. I'll schedule your check in time for next Thursday, at noon. I'll need you to come back in three days from now at four for the preliminaries. Are these times okay?"  
  
"That'd be fine," Sandy said quietly. "Thank you, Doctor Pearson." The family stood up, and each of them shook hands with the doctor one last time.  
  
"Good luck Seth," Dr. Pearson said, grasping his hand firmly.  
  
"Thank you," he mumbled, not meeting the doctor's eye.  
  
"Give me a call if you have any questions."  
  
Seth flung himself into one of the waiting room chairs while his parents finished the paper work at the front desk. Caleb hovered over them, watching them like a hawk.  
  
Ryan slid into the chair beside him.  
  
"Dude, what's going on?" Seth asked.  
  
"Not too much," Ryan replied. "Skittle?" He held out an open bag to his friend.  
  
"Don't mind if I do." Seth pinched a few out of the bag and popped them into his mouth. "I'm beat." He sighed and relaxed so his body practically melded into the plastic seat.  
  
"Don't worry 'bout it," Ryan assured him, shrugging. "We'll go home and you can kick my ass at Ninja Death Fighter 5."  
  
"Oh, that you can count on," Seth said, with a grin. He was happy that things weren't weird between them. There was still that light banter there, only for once Ryan was participating in it as well.  
  
"So how's the food here?" Ryan asked, upending the remaining Skittles into his mouth.  
  
"About as good as a five-star restaurant, assuming they're serving road kill." Seth cringed and shook his head.  
  
"That bad?" Ryan laughed.  
  
"You have no idea." Seth ran a hand through his hair. "Remind me to never criticize Mom's cooking again."  
  
"Now you're just being crazy," Ryan said, causing them both to smile. He spied the manila folder Seth clutched in his hand. "What's that?"  
  
Seth frowned. "Some interesting reading on leukemia." He swallowed, hating the word. "You can read it when I'm done, if you want." He paused. "There's this stuff, adriamycin or something, they use it in chemo....it makes you ralph your guts out. I was thinking we could get some bootleg stuff, slip it in Luke's Budweiser...watch the fireworks." Seth waggled his eyebrows.  
  
Ryan laughed tensely, hoping he hadn't upset Seth. He clapped Seth on the back and gave him a friendly grin. He hoped Seth saw the deeper meaning, the attempted reassurance that everything was okay.  
  
"All right boys, we're ready to go."  
  
The boys looked up to see Sandy, Kirsten, and Caleb standing over them. They stood up, and followed them to the parking lot.  
  
"Dibs on shotgun," Seth called.  
  
"It was probably stupid to only bring one car," Sandy said apologetically, as Ryan, Kirsten, and Caleb squished into the back seat.  
  
"No problem," Ryan replied. Caleb and Kirsten murmured their agreement.  
  
"Here we go," Sandy mumbled, pulling out of the hospital parking lot.  
  
Seth lay on his bed quietly, trying to focus on the comic book open before him, but he couldn't seem to make the words make sense in his head. He glanced over at the manila folder that he'd thrown on his dresser. It was tempting to take a peek at it, but the thought of reading his future was even scarier than not knowing. Especially reading his fate, alone in his room. Was it easier not to know? Most of the words made very little sense to him anyway.  
  
He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. He was dead tired. His dad had ordered him to bed, insisting that he needed to sleep, and he probably did, though he didn't want to admit it to anyone. He wondered vaguely what everyone was talking about downstairs, wondered if his father and grandfather had killed each other yet, then wondered when death had become a recurring topic in his thoughts.  
  
He sighed. He'd vowed that he wouldn't cry again, and he intended to do everything he could to follow through on that. Crying would only make the whole cancer thing worse in his own head, as well as the heads of everyone who cared about him. And though that number was few, the quality of their love or at least general affection was greater than anything.  
  
Seth rolled over and hit 'play' on his stereo. Bright Eyes again. Maybe it was a bunch of guitars and wailing, but he needed it right then.  
  
His eyelids fluttered and shut, and he drifted off to sleep.  
  
Kirsten was jolted out of her thoughts by the doorbell. She jumped, startled, almost knocking over her coffee cup. She'd been lost in thought about Seth. It seemed as if every member of the family had drifted off to their own isolated corners of the house, and she'd staked a claim on the kitchen.  
  
She stood up, cleared her throat, and headed toward the door, one eye fixated on the manila folder on the counter. Half of her wanted to absorb all the information she could so she could go into battle armed with the proper information, while half of her would just rather revel in the ignorance.  
  
Kirsten swung open the door, coming face-to-face with the very smiley Summer Roberts.  
  
"Hi, Mrs. Cohen," Summer greeted her, smiling sweetly. "Is Seth home?"  
  
Kirsten nodded. "Come on in, Summer. He's in his room. I'll go get him."  
  
Summer wrinkled her brow, despite the fact that every beauty magazine she'd ever read said that was a no-no. Kirsten looked exhausted, and her face was red and puffy, like she'd been crying.  
  
"No, no, that's okay," Summer said. "I'll just go up." She paused. "If that's okay."  
  
"That'll be fine," Kirsten replied, with an obviously forced smile.  
  
"Thanks, Mrs. Cohen," Summer said cheerfully. She began her trek up the stairs. She could hear loud music pouring from Seth's bedroom and she smiled. Bright Eyes, one of the many CDs he'd introduced her to, and she had to admit, they were pretty good.  
  
Summer cracked open the door, and smiled. Aw, he was asleep. She had to admit that Cohen looked pretty damned adorable when he was sleeping, that crazy hair going in all directions, Captain Oats standing proudly at his feet.  
  
Inspired, Summer dived on top of Seth. "Wake up, sleepy head!" she shrieked.  
  
Seth's eyes snapped open in panic, but when he saw Summer hovering above him, his face melted into a smile.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded, but he couldn't fake anger at her. She was a sight for sore eyes.  
  
"Came to visit you," Summer explained, bending down and kissing his lips passionately. "You haven't been in school the past two days."  
  
Seth frowned, and pushed her away gently before she could kiss him again. "I'm surprised you noticed."  
  
Summer punched his shoulder.  
  
"Ow! Shit, what's your problem?" Seth rolled up his sleeve to reveal a large bruise already forming.  
  
Summer wrinkled her brow yet again. "That must have already been there," she claimed, sounding confused. "I barely touched you. You can't be that delicate."  
  
"I don't think so," Seth said with a frown.  
  
"You're such a baby, Cohen," Summer said. "And look, I told Holly we're dating, okay? So the whole school's going to know by tomorrow." She smiled and kissed his lips gently. "And I'm not ashamed at all."  
  
Seth smiled. "Because the truth is that gossip is as good as gospel in this town. You can save face but you won't ever save your soul."  
  
"Oooh, Cohen, I love it when you quote song lyrics at me." Summer crawled into the space between Seth's arm and shoulder, and he held her close. She nuzzled his neck gently.  
  
"Foreplay, baby," he said, grinning in spite of himself.  
  
"So, how come you weren't in school?" Summer asked, tracing her fingers down Seth's chest. "Hope you're not contagious." She planted another long, luscious kiss on her boyfriend.  
  
"Seth, I need to talk to you-"  
  
Summer and Seth broke away quickly. Sandy stood in the doorway, looking embarrassed.  
  
"Sorry about that, kids," Sandy said. "I'll talk with you later, Seth. Uh, I'll just leave you alone right now." He strode out, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Summer frowned. "What's up with him?" she asked, twirling one of Seth's curls around on her finger. "How come he didn't go crazy and like, kick me out?"  
  
Seth sat up slightly, and Summer followed suit. "Summer, we have to talk," he said quietly, kissing the top of her head tenderly.  
  
"Okay," Summer agreed. "So, let's talk. What's up?"  
  
"Summer, I wasn't in school because..." he trailed off and cleared his throat. "I wasn't in school because I was at the hospital."  
  
Summer's eyes widened. "Why? Are you okay?" Her voice quickly reached a panicked level. "What's wrong?" She stroked his face gently.  
  
"Summer.." Seth's voice trembled slightly. "Summer, I have leukemia. Cancer."  
  
Summer's body stiffened. "Shit...Seth.." She exhaled loudly. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck." She paused, and took a deep breath, suddenly remembering that Seth needed comfort; this was not the right moment for another one of her famous rage blackouts. "Do you need anything? What do you want me to do?" Tears quickly pooled in her eyes.  
  
Seth smiled slightly. "Just sit with me for awhile, huh?" He paused. "And call me Cohen."  
  
Summer kissed Seth gently on the side of the mouth. "Whatever you need, Cohen."  
  
Seth held Summer tighter to his body. He began to rub her shoulders soothingly.  
  
"Don't worry about me," he whispered softly. "I'll be okay."  
  
Summer nodded, burying her face into his chest. She didn't want to let him see her cry, and they were already falling fast. She really liked Seth, enough to even give up her popularity to date him exclusively.  
  
"What's gonna happen to you?" Summer asked, her chin trembling.  
  
Seth eyed the manila folder, and he reached over and grabbed it off the dresser. "Why don't we find out together?"  
  
The two huddled closely together, taking in all the information before them on all of the printed documents. Seth felt better with Summer in his arms. It wasn't as scary, and he wouldn't cry in front of her.  
  
"Thank you," Seth whispered, kissing the side of her head lovingly.  
  
"Just don't get used to it, Cohen." Summer kissed him gently on the lips. She took the folder from his hands, closed it, and tossed it on the floor. "I think that's enough for now." She grabbed his face and kissed him fervently. "Now let's just sit awhile."  
  
"Whatever you say, beautiful."  
  
Sandy knocked lightly on Seth's door. He really didn't want to walk in on Seth and Summer again, so knocking seemed like the best bet.  
  
"Seth, can I come in?"  
  
"Yeah, Dad. Come on in."  
  
"Are you decent?" Sandy called a tiny small playing on his lips.  
  
"Hilarious," Seth called.  
  
Sandy opened the door, one hand covering his eyes. He peeked through his fingers, and seeing no heavy make-out sessions, he whipped his hands away and grinned.  
  
"Whew." He pretended to wipe the sweat off his brow. "What's going on?"  
  
Seth and Summer were looking rather cozy, cuddled together on the bed, but neither of them seemed even slightly embarrassed, merely wrapped up in their own teenage existence. Summer had her head buried in Seth's chest, and her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. He'd told her. Seth looked rather serene, and Sandy was thankful that Summer was there with him.  
  
"We're just hanging out," Seth said. "What's up?"  
  
"Dinner's in fifteen minutes," Sandy announced.  
  
"I'm not really hungry," Seth answered.  
  
Summer smacked his chest gently. "You have to eat."  
  
Sandy grinned slightly. "Better listen to the wife over there." He winked. "Summer, you staying for dinner?"  
  
Summer straightened up, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Thanks, Mr. Cohen, that'd be great."  
  
"What're we having?" Seth asked, yawning tiredly.  
  
"We ordered a pizza." Sandy paused. "Pineapple for you, mushroom for the sane ones."  
  
"Ah, take-out, the only dish my mother can't totally screw up." Seth grinned.  
  
"I'm gonna tell her you said that," Sandy said. "Look, be down in a few minutes. And I still want to talk to you later."  
  
Seth nodded. "Sure thing."  
  
"All right." Sandy paused. "No hanky-panky." He turned and left.  
  
"Wow, my dad is like, the biggest nerd."  
  
The whole family and Summer gathered around the table for dinner. Everyone grabbed a piece or two and sat down.  
  
Seth picked a pineapple off his piece and scarfed it down. He was all too aware of the fact that everyone's attention was on him, and he was incredibly uncomfortable in the spotlight. He scratched the back of his neck tiredly, and tried to not to make eye contact with anyone at the table.  
  
Summer took tiny, hesitant, bites out of her slice. She looked around the table, everyone silently chewing, and felt a little edgy. She felt like an outsider among the family, and wondered if they were okay with her being there. She glanced over at Seth and her heart turned over in her chest. Her boyfriend had cancer. Wow. And what's more, she realized that she loved him enough to want to still be with him through it all. It was a scary new feeling, caring about somebody that much. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined Seth Cohen being the guy that made her feel so strongly. And, just when things were going good, boom! Cancer. Possibility of death. Fear. Uncertainty. Summer was a rage blackout waiting to happen.  
  
Ryan downed his glass of milk in a few sips. He shifted slightly in his seat, wishing, for once, that he knew how to make conversation. He glanced over at Seth, wondering what it would be like when he had to spend all his time at the hospital. Would the huge house feel hollow without him? Probably. Ryan wasn't sure he could survive in the house without Seth's nonstop chattering. The silence could very well kill him. Ryan sighed. Why was he thinking of himself? Seth was the one he should have been thinking about. He was the one who could...no he couldn't. Seth Cohen could not die.  
  
Caleb used his knife and fork to carefully cut his pizza into smaller pieces. He noticed Seth smirking at this odd habit, and Caleb was happy hat he could at least get some enjoyment out of his presence. Caleb felt like something of an outsider; he really wasn't a part of their world. The only person at the table he had a real relationship with was Kirsten. He hadn't been the best grandfather to Seth, and he was beginning to regret that. He chewed his pizza in reserved silence.  
  
Kirsten picked the mushrooms off of her piece and plopped them down onto the side of her plate. Seth looked uneasy, and her heart went out to him. It had to be hard, knowing everyone was thinking about you, but was too afraid to say anything. She could only imagine how Seth had to feel. Sandy wasn't holding up too well either. His hands were shaking, and milk sloshed out of his glass and fell to the tablecloth. Sandy put the cup down, looking around furtively. He caught Kirsten's steady gaze and smiled dully. Kirsten gave a tiny smile in return. The last thing she needed was Sandy to regress into his past, panic attacks and nervous stutters. Seth still didn't know where he'd gotten those two little gifts.  
  
Sandy chewed his pizza furiously, trying to quell the rotten taste in his mouth. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. He hadn't slept more than an hour the night before, unable to stop considering what might happen to Seth. He was starting to think that maybe he'd take Dr. Pearson up on that offer for private counseling. He wasn't all that great at sharing his feelings, especially with a complete stranger, but maybe that was what he needed. Because, God, he was scared.  
  
There was very little discussion at dinner, and very little discussion afterwards. Nobody really knew what to say, and if what they wanted to say would come out right.  
  
Seth was lying in bed reading "On the Road," for about the ninth time and listening to Death Cab when Sandy popped in again. Summer had left about a half hour earlier.  
  
"Hey, kiddo." Sandy walked over and sat on the edge of Seth's bed. "How you feeling?"  
  
Seth shrugged. "My legs are kind of sore," he admitted, "and I'm a little tired. But it's not nearly as painful as dinner tonight."  
  
Sandy's smile was more like a grimace.  
  
"So you want to talk to me?" Seth closed his book and set it on his night stand. "Let's chat, let's gab, let's gossip." He hugged his knees to his chest and batted his eyelashes.  
  
"Um..well first of all, I don't want you having Summer up in your room alone..Based on...previous happenings." Sandy's face turned slightly pink.  
  
Seth smirked, embarrassed, but nodded. "Fair enough."  
  
"I made the exception just this once, because I figured you needed to talk to her about everything."  
  
"Yeah," Seth agreed somberly.  
  
"How'd that turn out?" Sandy asked softly.  
  
"She took it pretty well." Seth smiled gently.  
  
"Um, did you read through the material Dr. Pearson gave you?" Sandy cleared his throat.  
  
"Yeah; Summer and I went over most of it together." Seth fingered the frayed edges of his comforter. "Did you?"  
  
Sandy nodded, swallowing hard. "It's a lot to handle."  
  
"Yeah. Spinal taps, chemo, no hair, foot long needles, catheters, adriamycin, vomiting more than should be legal..." Seth sighed. "Not exactly how I pictured spending my junior year."  
  
Sandy patted his shoulder gently. "But you have a good chance of making it, you read that too. What was it? Sixty percent of kids with leukemia survive to tell about it?"  
  
"Yeah." Seth smiled a little, for Sandy's sake.  
  
"Look, son, I'm considering taking some of that counseling that Dr. Pearson offered." Sandy paused, seeing Seth's eyes widen. "I was thinking you could do it too. If you wanted."  
  
"I'll think about," Seth responded, surprised. He figured all of the Cohens were too used to emotional avoidance to want to partake in counseling.  
  
"I really do want you to think about it," Sandy repeated. "I think it might be good for you."  
  
Seth closed his eyes and leaned back against his headboard. "This sucks," he hissed softly.  
  
"I know."  
  
"It's just...I don't want to make your lives any harder than they already are. You've got the new job and all. Now you and Mom have to take off work to take me in for chemo or to talk to somebody about how bad it sucks that I have to be in chemo." Seth sniffed. "I mean, this has to happen when I finally have some friends too."  
  
"I know son, I know." Sandy sighed. "But I don't consider this some kind of pesky inconvenience. I don't mind ditching work to be with you in the hospital. You're our number one priority, and there's nothing we won't do for you."  
  
"Okay." Seth nodded, rubbing his face with both hands. "Okay. And I promise to think about the counseling deal." He squirmed a little. "Is Mom doing it? Or Ryan?"  
  
"I don't know yet. I haven't asked either of them." Sandy ran a hand through his hair. "Caleb's too proud, your mother probably too, Ryan still hasn't really mastered the skill of speech, so I'm not sure he'd do it either."  
  
"And we could talk all day to any poor sap who'll listen," Seth smirked.  
  
"Got that right." Sandy squeezed his shoulder tenderly and stood up. "Night son."  
  
"Night Dad." Seth paused. "Try not to worry too much."  
  
Sandy smiled sadly and retreated to his bedroom, where Kirsten laid, back to him, tears slowly staining her pillow. Sandy lay down beside her, not saying a word, but wrapping his arms around her waist.  
  
They fell asleep, their bodies intertwined, their pain and fear mutual. 


	6. Chapter 6

Standard disclaimers apply.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
When Seth entered the kitchen the next morning, the whole family was gathered around the table. They instantly stopped talking as soon as he entered. Seth's face flushed considerably, and he strode to the cabinet, trying to avoid making eye contact with any of them. He pulled out a bowl, and grabbed a spoon from the drawer. He wasn't all that hungry, but he knew his mother would be on his back if he didn't eat.  
  
"Hey, we have any Lucky Charms?" he asked. He opened the pantry and spotted the cereal box buried in the back. "Never mind. Found 'em."  
  
Conversation resumed at the table, though they probably weren't discussing what they had been before. Seth sat down at the table beside his dad, deciding to just ignore it.  
  
"Hey, Dad. You going to the restaurant today?" he asked cheerfully.  
  
Sandy shrugged. "I'm pretty sure Jimmy's got it all covered today. I'll probably just spend the day at home."  
  
Seth nodded, pouring milk onto his Lucky Charms. "Cool. So Ryan, you working today?"  
  
Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I have a shift later." He smiled slightly.  
  
"So, afterwards I can count on you for a little Playstation action? Those evil ninjas aren't about to kill themselves, you know." Seth smiled.  
  
"Count on it."  
  
An idea popped into Seth's mind, and he smirked devilishly. It was wild and crazy, and he doubted anyone would go for it...but it would be absolutely priceless. He munched his cereal slowly, wondering if he should voice his idea or not.  
  
"Say Grandpa," Seth began, unable to contain a smile, "how about I teach you how to play Ninja Death Fighter 5?"  
  
The indignant look on Caleb's face was enough to get a genuine laugh out of everyone on the table. Caleb Nichol, playing video games?  
  
Caleb saw the hopeful looks on everyone's faces, and realized that maybe he could suspend his dignity for awhile, to make his grandson happy. He knew they were all just having a laugh at his expense, but that was okay. He'd survived worse.  
  
"I think that'd be all right," he responded slowly. He noticed Sandy smirking into his coffee cup. "I'll probably be better than your father anyway."  
  
"Hey!" Sandy frowned. "I'm pretty good."  
  
"Yeah, last time we played he only stabbed his own teammate a few times," Ryan offered, trying to suppress a grin.  
  
"Dad, you've improved!" Seth grinned into his cereal bowl. He punched Sandy's shoulder. "Have you been practicing while I've been gone?"  
  
"Very funny," Sandy muttered.  
  
"Seriously, it's be the ultimate grudge match: Grandpa versus Dad. The Eyebrows versus the Business Suit. Mano-e-mano, no holds barred. It'd be like a cage match between Hulk Hogan and Bret Hart." He paused. "Wrestlers, people, if you're not big into the old school WWF. Or WWE, whatever the hell that's all about." But, you guys should play." Seth shoveled a spoonful of Lucky Charms into his mouth. "I'd be gweat."  
  
"Seth, don't talk with your mouth full," Kirsten said, but in a gentle way. She sipped her coffee, without looking up at anyone.  
  
"I believe that can be arranged," Caleb said dryly, not even reacting to Seth's wild babblings. It reminded Kirsten of how he was around Sandy when they'd first met. And boy, had Sandy been a rambler.  
  
"C'mon Ryan, I'll drive you to school," Sandy said, quickly standing up. He walked around the table, patting Seth on the back as he went.  
  
Ryan took one last chug of coffee before getting up and grabbing his backpack. He took a deep breath and gave a tiny wave to everyone at the table. His smile was hesitant and awkward, like he wasn't sure how to act around everyone else. Which he wasn't, when he really thought about it.  
  
"See ya later."  
  
"See ya, man." Seth looked over at the digital clock on the microwave and frowned. "Hey, aren't you a little late?" The clock read eight forty-five.  
  
"Uh, yeah." Ryan scratched the back of his neck. "I have study period one today." A lie, but only a little one. Sandy promised him he could see Seth before going to school. And he had chemistry first period, which was as pointless and boring as study hall anyway.  
  
Seth nodded, biting his lip. "Well, I'll see you later, dude. Tell the gang I said howdy."  
  
"Be back in a few minutes," Sandy said, with so much exuberant enthusiasm that Ryan knew something was up with him. More than the obvious, at least.  
  
Sandy was met with a few grunted good-byes. He and Ryan slipped out the front door and into the Range Rover.  
  
Ryan looked over at Sandy, who wiped his face with both hands wearily. He put the key in the ignition, caught Ryan's stare, and smiled.  
  
"I guess I can't say anything that'll stop you from worrying about me," Sandy said tiredly.  
  
Ryan shook his head.  
  
"Look, I promise, I'm fine. I won't tell you that it's Seth you should be worried about, because obviously you are." Sandy pulled the car out of the driveway, and started down the street toward Harbor School.  
  
"So...what's up?" Ryan asked with a tiny smile.  
  
"It's nothing." Sandy sighed, and shook his head, clearly frustrated. "It's just..." He frowned. "Seth's being the strong one. Kirsten and I are the parents....we're supposed to be the strong ones. We're supposed to try and lighten the mood for him, make him smile, take his mind off everything. Here he is cracking the jokes, trying to make us feel better. How could I let that happen?"  
  
"He's Seth; it's what he does." Ryan stared out the window passively. "He wouldn't want it any other way. He doesn't want you all over him, but he doesn't want you far away."  
  
Sandy chuckled. "True. I think he wants us comfortably close. Or something like that." He paused. "But I feel like there's something I'm not doing. I feel like I'm forcing him to hide his true feelings." He coughed.  
  
"That's the way he is," Ryan said quietly. "When he wants to show his true feelings, he will."  
  
"Yeah," Sandy muttered unconvincingly, thinking about how Ryan's statement could easily to describe both boys.  
  
"I guess there's nothing I can say that will convince you you're doing a good job handling this," Ryan said softly.  
  
"I guess not." Sandy sighed yet again. "Look, I'm sorry to be dumping all of this on you. I really shouldn't be telling you all this."  
  
"I'd only hate you if you tried to act like this wasn't bothering you," Ryan half-whispered, his blue eyes staring intently at the cup holder before finally reaching Sandy Cohen. "You handle everything well."  
  
Sandy pulled the car into the Harbor School parking lot.  
  
"You're a good kid," Sandy said quietly. "I want you to know that no matter what, you're a part of this family. I can promise you that. You're here for the long haul."  
  
"Thanks," Ryan replied solemnly, trying not to think of the implications of his words.  
  
Sandy patted him gently on the shoulder.  
  
"See you later, son."  
  
"Bye."  
  
Ryan hopped out of the car and began his trek up the steps to the school. He sighed, exhausted. He hadn't slept much the night before; mostly he'd tossed and turned, trying not to think about Seth and failing miserably. He felt confused, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Be supportive, that was a given. And Sandy had already confirmed the fact that he wasn't expected to leave, that he was a family member. But, other than that, what was he supposed to do? Did he try to crack jokes, keep Seth's mind off everything? Did he act serious, pressing Seth to talk to him about how he felt? What could he say that would make things better?  
  
After checking in at the office, Ryan headed to his locker. He entered the combination and swung the door open. The door of his locker was very sparsely decorated, not at all like Seth's. Ryan had to smile. The door of Seth's locker was covered in pictures, a few of Summer, though she'd forced him to take down any supermodel pictures after they became a couple. A copy of their Chrismakkuh card, and a picture he got off the computer of a zebra riding a motorcycle flying over a leaping jaguar. God, that kid was weird. Ryan glanced at his door, thinking he'd have to add something more than the Chrismakkuh card, which he'd duct taped to the center.  
  
Ryan grabbed his world literature book out of his locker and shoved it into his backpack. He smirked at his chemistry book; he wouldn't need it that day. He sighed heavily, checking his watch.  
  
The bell rang piercingly, and kids swarmed out of their classes, shuffling like drones toward their second period class. Somewhere in there was Marissa. Ryan truly hoped that she didn't try to make up with him again. He wasn't sure he could say no at that point, and he really wasn't sure that that was a good thing.  
  
Ryan saw Summer out of the corner of his eye, standing in front of her open locker, looking lost. Ryan swallowed, slammed his locker door shut and walked up beside Summer.  
  
"Hey, Summer," Ryan said softly, his voice radiating warmth.  
  
"Hey Chino," Summer said, looking tired and sad. Even her expertly applied make-up couldn't hide the fact that she'd been crying.  
  
Ryan smiled softly, glancing at the picture of Seth that was taped on the door of Summer's locker. He was lying in bed eyes closed, blankets up to his chin, and a smile on his face, with Captain Oats' face peeking out from the blanket right beside his.  
  
Summer saw where Ryan was looking, and she smiled a little.  
  
He wanted to reach out and hug her, but not willing to risk the "Ewwww" that could follow. It was weird, actually wanting to make physical contact with someone. It would've never happened in Chino, not even with a girlfriend. Girlfriends were for sloppy kisses and generally awkward sex. There wasn't too much emotion attached to most of the girls he'd been with; Theresa had been the closest he'd ever come to truly loving a girl, though he'd told dozens of random chicks that he'd loved them. It never meant anything. And now, standing in front of some girl he'd long thought was a bitch, he wanted nothing more than to hold her until she could smile again. She was his best friend's girl, and, this was the big one, his friend.  
  
"So how are you taking it?" Ryan asked.  
  
Summer sighed. "Well now that Cohen and I are exclusive, I've basically committed social suicide. None of my friends will look at me anymore."  
  
"I meant.." Ryan paused. "Ah. Joking." It was hard for one to get used to the black comedy that seemed to dominate the Newport crowd. When everything falls apart, crack a joke and watch the world burn to ashes.  
  
"Yeah. Gotta handle it somehow." Summer exhaled a deep breath. "Um, still hasn't really sunk in yet or anything. I haven't really talked about it with anyone."  
  
"You haven't talked to Marissa about this?" Ryan asked, furrowing his brow. He figured she'd be the first person Summer would run to after hearing the news.  
  
Summer leaned up against the lockers, looking upset. She shrugged her shoulders tiredly. "Coop's been wrapped up in her own world since you guys stopped dating." She sniffled. "Honestly, I'm just here for her if nobody else is around." Her eyes looked teary. "She didn't ditch only you for Oliver you know." She paused. "Sorry."  
  
"No, it's okay." Ryan shook his head. "Don't worry about it." Her mentioning Oliver really didn't sting as much as it might have earlier. He suspected he was getting over the whole ordeal. Made him realize a thing or two about love anyway.  
  
Summer shut her locker and sighed. "How's Seth?"  
  
"Okay, I guess. He hasn't been complaining or anything." Ryan wasn't sure exactly how Seth was, so he figured his answer probably wasn't all that accurate.  
  
Summer nodded. "Tell him I'll call him tonight, okay? Or I might come by. I dunno yet." Summer hugged herself gently with her arms.  
  
"Okay. I'll tell him."  
  
"Thanks, Chino." Summer forced a little smile. "I have to get to biology class. Maybe I could at least stop by after school and give him the homework he missed."  
  
"I'm sure he'd appreciate that," Ryan answered, smirking.  
  
"Is he going to come tomorrow?" Summer asked hopefully.  
  
"I'm not sure." Ryan bit his lip. "Doctor says he has to go in for a few more tests before they check him in next Thursday."  
  
Summer nodded. She gave Ryan a little nod, and strode briskly away, trying to distance herself from the one other person in the school who knew how she truly felt at that moment.  
  
She fought off tears and held her head high. She wasn't going to let anyone see her pain.  
  
When Sandy got home Seth was lying curled up on the couch, watching Caleb struggle with Ninja Death Fighter 5. Seth snickered as Caleb made random sounds of frustration, occasionally letting slip a wild string of swears. Kirsten sat on a nearby armchair, an open book in her lap and a bemused expression on her face.  
  
"Hey, all," Sandy said cheerfully. He remembered his conversation in the car with Ryan and decided that he was going to try and keep things light anyway.  
  
"Hey, Dad," Seth greeted him, twisting around so his father could see his smile. "Grandpa's teaching me an assortment of new vocabulary words."  
  
"Glad to hear it, son," Sandy patted his head fondly as he headed over to where Kirsten sat. He kissed her tenderly on the lips.  
  
"Dr. Pearson called," Kirsten announced softly. "They need him in there tomorrow at two. Bone-marrow aspirations. They brought in another doctor to make sure the first diagnosis is correct."  
  
Sandy nodded. He'd read about those in the material he'd been given. "Who's going to take him?" He paused. "I could do it."  
  
"I don't want to put you out or anything," Seth piped up. "I could borrow the car, go on my own. I was thinking of going out tomorrow anyway. Must admit I have a bit of the wanderlust ever since I got out of the hospital. And yes, wanderlust is a great word."  
  
He'd meant the suggestion as a sincere way of trying to ease his parents' stress, but Kirsten's face paled at the very thought.  
  
"I'll take you," Sandy offered. "It's no trouble."  
  
"I could take him," Kirsten said, shutting her book. "It'd be no trouble for me either."  
  
"Kikki I need you tomorrow for when we talk to Fred Anderson. I can't stand the jackass, but he seems to like you." Caleb never tore his eyes away from the television screen, furiously tapping buttons.  
  
Kirsten gave Seth an apologetic smile. He shrugged and waved it off.  
  
"No worries there, Mom. Dad and I'll be fine." Seth paused. "So am I going to school tomorrow?"  
  
Sandy and Kirsten looked at each other, communicating silently. Sandy shrugged. Kirsten frowned.  
  
"We'll think about it," Kirsten said finally. "It'll all depend on how you feel tomorrow morning."  
  
Seth nodded thoughtfully. "Well I musn't fall behind on my studies," he fretted. "That would just be wretched."  
  
"You just want to make time with that girlfriend of yours," Caleb chimed in. "Hah! I massacred that ninja bastard!"  
  
"What year is this again, Grandpa? Pardon me, but Summer and I don't make time. Forget that old fogy speak. It's only shizzles and fo shos up in my hood. We have never and will never make time." Seth sniffed indignantly.  
  
"Yeah, they just make out," Sandy chirped.  
  
Everyone else in the room grimaced collectively. Sandy just laughed. Of course, he knew that Seth had done much more than that with Summer, but he liked having that be just a secret between the two of them. And Summer of course. And probably Ryan. Actually, he was surprised Seth told him in the first place.  
  
"I'm going to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat," Sandy announced. "Anybody want anything?"  
  
"No thanks," Kirsten said, reopening her book.  
  
Caleb just waved his hand in a "go away" gesture.  
  
"Seth?"  
  
"Uh, actually, Dad, I think I'll go with you," Seth said, scooting off of the couch.  
  
Sandy walked behind Seth, watching him like a hawk, making absolutely sure that Seth wouldn't fall again.  
  
Seth slid into a chair at the kitchen table as Sandy started rummaging through the refrigerator.  
  
"What do you want?" Sandy asked, pulling out some leftover pizza from the night before.  
  
"A Sprite would be dandy," Seth replied.  
  
"Nothing to eat?" Seeing Seth shake his head, Sandy grabbed the Sprite and slid it over to Seth. "So how ya feeling? I mean, really."  
  
Seth popped the top of the soda and took a swig.  
  
"A little woozy, tired," Seth admitted. "But my curveball's curving and my split ball's splitting, so I can go at least three more innings." He paused. "Yeah, probably shouldn't be talking about balls that much."  
  
"Any joint pain?"  
  
"A little." A pause. "Nothing I can't handle." Seth traced circles on the tablecloth with his fingers. He gave a frustrated sigh. "Look, I've been thinking about it...and maybe the counseling idea isn't so bad. For us at least. Don't know about the rest of them." He shrugged. "But I see how it is- everyone walking on eggshells around each other- and I figure it could work. Someone to talk to. It'd probably end up being about nothing, but hey, that's cool. I can talk about nothing."  
  
Sandy nodded. "I'll talk to Dr. Pearson about it tomorrow, get it set up. And, you know, I'm always here if you really do need to talk."  
  
"Maybe." Seth shrugged. "But we're both scared as hell about worrying each other aren't we?"  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, we are." Sandy sighed.  
  
Seth stood up and pushed in his chair. "Sooo...tomorrow? Getting my bones sucked dry..."  
  
"Seth.."  
  
"I'm kinda scared," Seth admitted with a nervous giggle. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, as Sandy's hand gently rubbed his shoulder. "But, hey, I'm a fighter. The don't call me Death Breath Seth because of these dimples, do they?"  
  
"Why do they call you Death Breath Seth?"  
  
"Long story involving the wretched Camp Selner and barfing in the woods." Seth shuddered. "Not something I feel like remembering at the moment. Perhaps I'll tell you when you're older."  
  
Sandy nodded and smiled. He squeezed Seth's shoulder affectionately.  
  
"We can get through this," he whispered, ignoring the doubt that creeped into the corner of his mind. 


	7. Chapter 7

Standard disclaimers apply.  
  
Chapter 7  
  
"If you start to feel sick, go lie down in the nurse's office. I'll pick you up as soon as I possibly can. Your appointment is at two, so as soon as school end I want you waiting right outside."  
  
"I know, Dad."  
  
"Okay. Don't overdo it, kiddo. I'm going to call you at lunch, so make sure you leave your cell phone on." Sandy paused. "And eat a good lunch, but nothing too heavy."  
  
"We've been through this," Seth reminded him impatiently.  
  
"All right. But you're lucky your mom and I are even letting you come today." A sunglass clad Sandy smiled at his son. "Have a good day, Seth. And right after school, don't forget."  
  
"Got it. See ya, Dad."  
  
"God Cohen, your dad is such a...dad."  
  
Seth threw his arm around Summer's shoulders and squeezed her body close to his.  
  
"And what's you dad?" He asked. "A wallaby?"  
  
"My dad's a plastic surgeon," Summer replied, sticking out her tongue.  
  
"You think you're pretty slick, don't ya, lady?" Seth kissed the top of her head, the pleasant aroma of her strawberry shampoo dancing across his nostrils.  
  
"Oh, I do," Summer said, smiling. She let loose a little squeal when Seth tickled her stomach gently with his free hand.  
  
Ryan glanced over at them with a tiny smile. They were holding each other up, it seemed. Which was great, though Ryan hadn't found anyone to help him stand. Sandy and Kirsten, Seth and Summer, hell, even Caleb had reconciled with Julie Cooper.  
  
Ryan caught sight of Marissa sitting on a wooden bench, reading a book. She was wearing a jean skirt that showed off her long legs and a tight-fitting red top. Her lips moved slightly as she read. Ryan remembered the way they always tasted, like the vanilla lip gloss she always had on hand. He remembered how her hair smelled strongly of apples, and how soft it was when his fingers ran through it.  
  
"Let's use the other stairs," Ryan suggested, swallowing heavily.  
  
The other steps would mean he wouldn't have to pass by Marissa, catching the faint whiff of her shampoo mingled with her perfume. He knew he was weak right then, and the temptation was strong to forgive her for Oliver merely to have someone to hold when things got scary. Logically, he knew it wouldn't be right to treat her like that, and to do that to himself. Ryan knew that if she smiled at him at that moment in time he'd take her back in an instant. He couldn't do that. He couldn't break down.  
  
Summer and Seth saw where Ryan's eyes were focused. They exchanged concerned glances.  
  
"All right," Seth said quickly. "Cool. The other stairs it is. Awesome. I'm actually more partial to these stairs anyway. See this step, guys? This was where I got pantsed in front of the entire cheerleading squad on my first day of school freshmen year."  
  
"That was you?" Summer asked, wrinkling her nose. "With the Bullwinkle boxers?"  
  
Seth nodded in affirmation. "And thus my fate was sealed. Though I do find it ironic that Luke was always accusing me of being gay while he seemed to harbor the mad desire to tear my pants off of me at every opportunity."  
  
"Eighth grade trip, Ninja Turtles tightie whities?" Summer asked, frowning.  
  
"That was me as well," Seth admitted, blushing slightly. "And it was not my fault. My mom saw them in the store and thought they were adorable." Seth paused. "She likes to keep me young."  
  
Ryan allowed himself to smile as the two bantered back and forth about underwear. He was free of temptation at the moment. He felt a gentle hand on his elbow. He glanced over at Summer, who smiled at him warmly.  
  
"It's okay, Chino. You both need some time to deal. She'll figure it out and give you some space."  
  
"Thanks, Summer," Ryan choked out, feeling a mixture of fear and contentment. It was always weird when somebody started to really know you.  
  
They were at the top of the stairs, standing side-by-side, eyes taking in all of their surroundings. Everything seemed to sparkle and shimmer in its perfection. Guys walked by in their Abercrombie and Fitch and Seth noticed them glower at Seth and Summer, mumbling about queers and hot girls. It was their first public appearance as a couple, and apparently they were not going to be well-received by the masses.  
  
"This is going to be a long day," Seth said, yawning wearily as the three plopped down onto a nearby bench.  
  
"Hey, you wanted to come today," Ryan reminded him.  
  
"I wonder how they'd treat me if they knew," Seth mused out loud. He shrugged. "Whatever. Probably wouldn't even make a difference."  
  
This time it was Summer and Ryan who traded worried looks. Summer bit her lip slightly while Ryan cleared his throat loudly.  
  
"So hey, be honest, Ryan. How much baby-sitting did my parents beg you to do? You gonna turn the pages of my books, raise my hand in history?"  
  
Ryan threw him a lopsided grin. "I'm supposed to carry your books around, which isn't all that different from usual anyway."  
  
"I take severe and extreme umbrage to your previous remark," Seth stated.  
  
"Oh, and I'm supposed to run into you between classes to make sure you're okay."  
  
"What, like duck into the bathroom and give 'em a call if I yawn or scratch of something?" Seth asked, looking more amused than anything.  
  
"Yeah, something along those lines," Ryan answered.  
  
"Gotta love the parental espionage ring, employing Benedict over here to spy on me." Seth grinned.  
  
The trio sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the kids as they passed. Everything seemed to move in slow motion around them. Footballs hovered for minutes in the air as they flew from one set of hands to the next. Giggles, burps, whispers all polluted the air, along with the distinct smell of coffee. One groups if guys walked by, loudly discussing the upcoming weekend's beach bash.  
  
"What I wouldn't give to be that mindless," Seth said wistfully.  
  
"C'mon Cohen. I'll walk you to English." Summer stood up, a sad expression etched onto her face. She pulled his arm slightly.  
  
"All right," Seth obliged, letting Summer pull him up, a grunt escaping his lips. "You coming, bodyguard of mine?" He held out his hand, which Ryan slapped gently.  
  
"I've got chemistry. It's on the way." Ryan squinted into the sun.  
  
"No, it's not," Seth told him.  
  
"I'll make it be on the way."  
  
"You know Atwood, that just warms my heart."  
  
Summer and Seth sat too close during biology, whispering and laughing quietly, ignoring glares from Mr. Winslow, their by-the book teacher.  
  
Between classes she and Ryan trailed him to his locker, offering to vanquish his evil and unwieldy combination lock and carry his books. At one point Summer actually fell to her knees and tied his shoe before he could open his mouth to protest. That drew a few glances and whispers. Just what kind of relationship did they have, anyway? People wondered.  
  
He earned a detention in calculus for falling asleep. He wasn't about to explain to the very hostile Ms. Andrews just why he'd been drooling openly on his desk, so he silently accepted his punishment, promising to serve two days from then. This was enough to arouse suspicion in Ms. Andrews' mind, the old coot, and she came within inches of assigning him yet another attention. Perhaps Seth would convince his father to work his lawyer charms and get him out of it.  
  
At lunch he sat outside in a secluded corner with Summer and Ryan. He picked at the cafeteria's ziti and struggled to find a comfortable position in his chair. The pain in his arms and legs had intensified as a result of sitting in a desk all day.  
  
"So, how'd it go?" Ryan asked, chewing a bagel lethargically.  
  
"Okay. Nothing exciting for you to report to Mom and Dad." Seth yawned.  
  
His cell phone suddenly came alive in his bag. Seth dropped his fork on his tray and grabbed it, silencing his Muppet Babies theme song ring tone.  
  
"Talk amongst yourselves," Seth ordered. "Yeah, hey Dad...Nah, I'm good...ziti.....a lot better than Mom's yeah...No....no, really....well, once...the desk was so inviting....I'm fine..yes, two o'clock...I know...I won't forget..."  
  
"How does he stay so...perky?" Summer asked Ryan in a hushed voice.  
  
"He's perfected his defenses," Ryan observed. "Humor, babbling, a natural reaction to stressful situations to him"  
  
Summer nodded, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear.  
  
"I think I might love him," she admitted, so quietly she knew Seth couldn't hear her.  
  
"I know," Ryan answered. "It's hard not to when you really know him."  
  
Just as soon as Seth hit 'end call,' his ring tone sounded again.  
  
"Hello? Oh, hey. Sup playa?" He paused, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. "My mom," he explained.  
  
Summer looked up at Ryan after Seth had fully immersed himself in the conversation.  
  
"You think he knows how I feel?" Summer asked, tears filling her eyes.  
  
Ryan nodded. "I don't think he could not know."  
  
Seth leaned against a random railing, waiting patiently for his father to pick him up. Summer and Ryan had cried research paper and were in the school library, frantically searching for a hero could stake claims on so they could write an eight page paper on them. Seth had the same paper for AP English and had checked out books on Gandhi, John Lennon, and Martin Luther King Jr., just to cover all the bases.  
  
"Hey faggot."  
  
Seth felt strong hands shove him from behind. He stumbled down two steps and felt his ankle twist painfully. His hands groped the air for something solid and came up with air. His body tumbled to the ground. Scrambling up as fast as he could and ignoring the pain that shot through his body, he came face-to-face with three smirking wrestlers.  
  
"What's up, fairy?" The ringleader, Brad asked, looking so cocky and smug that Seth wanted to clock him. But all three of them had a major height and weight advantage over him, so he doubted that hitting him would be the wisest course of action.  
  
"Brad," Seth greeted him coldly.  
  
"Listen queer, I don't know what bet Summer lost, but nobody's fooled, okay?" Brad's voice had a dangerous edge to it. His fingers reached out and touched his cheek, lingered there almost tenderly, before he quickly withdrew it. "Look guys. His face is red, he's shaking. Gave you a hard-on too, I'll bet."  
  
Seth clenched his fists tightly. He could not hit this enormous beast without serious consequences.  
  
"Look, Summer's too hot for a queer like you. So dump her, huh? I'm sure she'll be much happier with me anyway." Brad's smirk expanded a nearly impossible feat.  
  
"You know it's kind of funny, you calling me a faggot when all you wrestlers do is put on spandex and grope each other,' Seth spat.  
  
The fist connected with Seth's chest before he could block it, knocking the air out of him, knocking him to his knees. Black spots danced before his eyes. Brad yanked him up roughly.  
  
"No one calls me a faggot," Brad growled.  
  
"I was merely alluding..."  
  
And the second punch found its mark.  
  
Sandy pulled the Range Rover into the Harbor parking lot, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes scanning the area for Seth. He paused, his eyes catching a glimpse of his unmistakable curls.  
  
Sandy's blood ran cold. Some rich punk had his hands on his kid, his sick kid. The shitface pushed Seth roughly, who stumbled backwards. A second shitface pulled him up, thirsty for more action.  
  
Sandy's fingers hit the window button desperately, the anger building up inside of him, as his heart started pounding wildly in his chest as he pulled up in front of the scene.  
  
"Get the hell away from him!" Sandy yelled, fumbling for the door handle, his eyes pooling up with tears of rage.  
  
The punk looked up at him, still with that damned smirk. He gave Seth one last shove and started walking up the steps, motioning for his two cronies to follow him, which they did obediently.  
  
"See ya later, queer," the ringleader called, throwing Sandy a smug, self- satisfied smile over his shoulder. He was one of those Newport brats who thought he was untouchable. A hate burned inside of Sandy that he never thought imaginable.  
  
God, he could hardly breathe. Sandy bent his head over slightly, trying to keep his breathing even and steady and failing miserably.  
  
Seth got up slowly, his eyes trained on the Range Rover, staring in disbelief at his father. Sandy looked up, and saw something in his eyes that said he was considering fleeing. But he merely scooped up his bulging backpack gingerly. He half-limped to the passenger side of the car.  
  
Seth opened the car door and slid into his seat, not even looking at his father. His face was red-hot with embarrassment. He slid his hands discreetly around his body, as if trying to keep the pain in his stomach from spreading. He felt a wave of nausea.  
  
How could Sandy do that? Seth wasn't some little kid who needed his "Daddy" to save him every single time something bad happened. Just because he was sick didn't mean he was helpless. School was hellish enough without being known as the guy who had his father break up all of his fights. His dad had some kind of hero complex going on. When was he going to realize that he couldn't protect him from everything just because he was his dad and he wanted to? Seth would've taken care of it just fine. Eventually they would've gotten tired of him and gone to have some huge make-out session with each other, or whatever all of those guys did. He was a big kid. When were his parents going to realize this? It was embarrassing enough at times to have Ryan as his protector.  
  
Seth pressed his face up against the window, staring outside sullenly, and eyes staring dazedly as the road as it sailed past him. He wondered what names were going to be added to Brad's routine when he returned to school the next day. Of course, he could always just not go to school. It wasn't like his mom could say he was faking it if he said he wasn't up to it. One needed to be in peak physical condition to verbally or physically spar with jerks like Brad anyway. He was a bit smarter than Luke; he caught all of he subtle digs Seth liked to throw in while he got beaten up, which only meant a worse pounding. So maybe he'd blow off school and play video games and sulk.  
  
He could still hardly believe his father had done that. He could've honked the horn and it would have had the same effect. Instead he'd yelled, half- mad out the car window, like an overprotective soccer mom yelling at the bullies to get off of her baby.  
  
Seth finally spared a glare in Sandy's direction, but stopped short. His father's body was shaking violently. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers were stark white and his chest was heaving up and down too quickly.  
  
Seth felt a shot of remorse hit him. His dad was really and genuinely worried about him. So much so that he couldn't control his actions, and all he could think about was how he would get teased by Brad later. It was like when they were searching for Ryan after that whole model home debacle and Sandy had been so honest about how much he loved Seth. It was weird, being that they were manly man and weren't supposed to talk about feelings and attachment, but it was nice. And in an odd way, this was nice too.  
  
"Thanks," Seth rasped out, staring at the green numbers proclaiming the time.  
  
"Are..are you okay?" Sandy asked quietly, his voice as controlled as he could make it.  
  
"Yeah..it wasn't too bad," Seth answered, slouching down low in his seat. "I've had worse."  
  
"Water polo?" Sandy asked, eyes flicking over to try and discern how Seth was feeling at the moment.  
  
"Wrestlers," Seth corrected. "Intimidated by my incredible manliness, as you can imagine."  
  
Sandy laughed nervously. "I'll bet." He paused. "Look, I'm really sorry..."  
  
"It's no big deal," Seth cut in. "I'm fine. It's fine."  
  
"So..you're okay?"  
  
"Yeah, Dad, I really am."  
  
"It's just..it's hard to see that and not lose it.."  
  
"I know. And it's fine. I swear." Seth shrugged. "It's cool."  
  
Sandy visibly relaxed.  
  
"So thanks," Seth reiterated, staring nonchalantly out the window.  
  
"Any time, kid."  
  
"Hey, Mom."  
  
Kirsten turned her head slightly to see Seth approaching her. She was sitting at the kitchen table, hard at work. He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.  
  
He smiled faintly. She used rich lady shampoo that didn't smell like strawberries or apples or anything. He was almost sad it didn't.  
  
"Hey, baby." Kirsten dropped her pen and threw her arm around Seth's waist.  
  
"What are you up to?" Seth asked, staring curiously at the paper spread out before his mother.  
  
"Crunching numbers like a madwoman," Kirsten replied, a smile tracing her lips, one of the few she'd ever had in what seemed like forever. Seth was finally taking interest in her job. It was nice. She rubbed his lower back gently. "How was the hospital today, sweetheart?"  
  
"Stung a little bit, but I'm as chipper as ever," Seth told her. "I sure hope you take me next time I need one of those crazy procedures done. Dad almost passed out on the spot, then insisted on asking about a thousand questions."  
  
"I'll make sure and clear my schedule just for you," Kirsten told him, her smile widening just slightly.  
  
"Good."  
  
Seth slid into the seat next to her, giving her a gentle smile.  
  
Kirsten wanted to cry.  
  
"Mom, is something wrong?" Seth paused. "Beyond the obvious, I mean."  
  
"Everything's just..changing so fast." Kirsten leaned over and kissed her son's forehead.  
  
Seth nodded. "You know what you need?" He asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, first off you need to forget about work for now. Forget about me. Grab the Sandy and go out for a nice evening." Seth smiled, proud at his own idea.  
  
"I don't know.."  
  
"Look, I know you guys don't want to leave me here. You've been looking for every excuse to hang out at home. But you need a night off right now. Things are changing. So have one night where everything can just be the same. You and Dad being gross and acting like lovesick college kids." Seth paused. "I mean, why not?"  
  
Kirsten chuckled slightly, thinking about just how much Seth had grown up in the past year.  
  
"Besides, you would not want to break the reservations I was kind enough to make for you. The Cabin at seven. Wear something that'll take the Sandy's breath away." Seth snickered. "And if you take this opportunity to tell me how much like Dad I am, I might just blow chunks. And that would completely ruin this tender mother/son moment. And neither one of us want that, do we?"  
  
"I love you, Seth." Kirsten kissed his forehead again.  
  
"I love you, Mom."  
  
"Seven, you said?"  
  
"Yeah, seven. I paid for it with Grandpa's credit card." Seth waggled his eyebrows. "You don't think he'd hit a guy with curly hair do ya?"  
  
"I don't think so," Kirsten answered almost silently.  
  
"Okay, so you can go get ready. I got the Ryan involved on this little scheme, and he agreed to make us some macaroni and cheese- he's a master chef, you know- and basically wait on me hand and foot. So your job is filled. We'll play some video games and chill." Seth paused. "Good for you?"  
  
"Fantastic." Kirsten stood up, and kissed the top of his head. "You are just full of surprises, Seth."  
  
Seth watched her walk away, smiling to himself. That was what he did; he brought people together.  
  
TBC 


	8. Chapter 8

Standard disclaimers apply. Sorry for the long wait. I'm a sophomore in high school, and I have finals all next week, so I've been studying pretty hard and all that jazz. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter 8  
  
"Why do I like, always kick your ass at this game?"  
  
Seth paused his fervent tapping on the controller buttons long enough to throw his brother a dazzling smile.  
  
"Crap," Ryan muttered, watching his ninja die for what seemed like the thousandth time.  
  
"Hey, at least you're better than my dad," Seth offered, snickering. "If there is some way of slicing your own guy's head off, my dad will find it."  
  
"You had enough to eat?" Ryan asked, glancing at Seth's dinner plate, which was streaked with macaroni and cheese residue.  
  
"Yeah. I'm good," Seth answered, scratching his stomach and yawning.  
  
"And you don't feel nauseous?" Ryan asked, giving him a pointed look as he peered out from underneath his thick bangs.  
  
Seth threw up his hands in disgust. "God, puke up a lung once and you never hear the end of it." He shook his head. "I'd hate to see how you would've reacted if Mom wasn't around. Though I must commend you..you can yell really loudly."  
  
Seth had had a mild bout of vomiting shortly before Kirsten and Sandy went on their dinner date. Ryan, walking into the kitchen to find Seth bent over the trash can, was thrown into a state of pale-faced panic.  
  
"Sandy! Kirsten!" He'd yelled, his voice cracking, his body shaking, having no idea what to do.  
  
And the parents, as was in their job description, swooped in and took care of things, actually relieved to see that the problem was only throwing up. Their minds had managed to conjure up several thousand more horrific scenarios between the time they heard Ryan's yell, and the time they arrived in the kitchen. Kirsten got into mom mode, kneeling beside Seth, massive high heels and all, and rubbing his back gently, while barking orders at Ryan and Sandy to bring her various health care items. She could be such a motherly mother when she needed to be.  
  
After Seth and Ryan were calmed down, it took considerable cajoling from Ryan and Seth, and babying of Seth from both of his parents to bring Sandy and Kirsten to leave the house. Seth assured them that he was fine, but it took a lot of convincing before either Sandy or Kirsten willingly left the house. Kirsten had even pulled Ryan aside and made him promise that he wouldn't let Seth eat any more than he could handle. Ryan had been obedient, though Seth had moaned a bit at his smaller portion of macaroni and cheese.  
  
After dinner, the boys retreated to the living room for a heated video game tournament, at which Seth was demolishing Ryan.  
  
Seth stretched his arms over his head, looking thoughtful. He swallowed and eyed Ryan nervously.  
  
"You know, with me sick and all, you'll probably have to see a lot of really gross stuff..and you know, like there's a little symptoms that go along with this. I mean, it's not like some mucus-ed up alien is gonna pop out of my chest or anything, but there's some pretty barf-tastic things that'll be going down." Seth exhaled loudly. "Are you gonna be cool with it, like seeing me like that or whatever?"  
  
"Yeah. Yeah. Sure. No, it's cool." Ryan shook his head fervently. "I mean, I just have a thing about stuff..stuff that comes out of the body all that."  
  
"Ah." Seth nodded knowingly. "A little squeamish about projectile vomit. I see." He shrugged. "No big deal. Just don't want you coming to the hospital all the time if you can't handle stuff like that." He sniffed a little, eyes glued to the screen. "What's say I beat you again, Atwood?"  
  
Ryan swallowed a lump in his throat. "Sure." He tapped the start button gently. "And I can handle it. No problem," he added, sneaking a glance at Seth, who was currently sneaking a glance at him.  
  
They both smiled.  
  
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII  
  
Sandy took a small sip of wine as he perused the menu. Nothing sounded particularly appealing to him, but then he hadn't eaten much in the past week. He glanced up at Kirsten, who stared at her menu with all the seriousness of a doctor performing open heart surgery. Sandy smiled faintly.  
  
Kirsten felt Sandy's steady gaze and met his eyes briefly. She let out the breath she hadn't even been aware she'd been holding, and closed the menu.  
  
Sandy took her hand from across the table and squeezed it gently. He sniffed.  
  
"You know, this was really sweet of Seth and Ryan and all, but we don't have to stay here," Sandy suggested, voice low.  
  
"Wha-what do you mean?" Kirsten asked, forehead wrinkling. "You want to go home?"  
  
"No, no, not that," Sandy insisted. "But, I don't know." He sighed in frustration, unable to voice his feelings coherently.  
  
Kirsten looked down at herself, her fancy black dress, her shoes that pinched her toes painfully. She looked at Sandy, his suit slightly wrinkled, his face worn and his hair unruly. The hand he held in hers was shaky and nervous. Kirsten looked around them, at the candlelight, the stark white tablecloths, and all of the different forks that lay beside her plate. And everything seemed so, overdone.  
  
"We could go to some burger joint," Kirsten suggested, biting her lip. "Remember back in college; God we practically lived in Wendy's."  
  
Sandy nodded, laughing a little bit. "Those were good times." He paused. "These are good times. We have two good boys." He kissed her hand, thinking about how sophisticated the Cabin was, with its crystal chandelier and strict dress code. He didn't want that. He needed something simple, stress- free, where he could slurp his soda if he felt the need to.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Kirsten and Sandy were giggling in a booth at a nearly deserted Wendy's, eating hamburgers, splitting an order of Biggie fries, sipping sodas, and reminiscing on days past. They sat on the same side of the booth, holding onto each other, as if the happiness only existed when they touched.  
  
"The roof leaked, there was mold in the walls, it smelled like skunk all the time, there was no air conditioning." Sandy nibbled on a fry. "We had the epitome of a couple's first house."  
  
Kirsten snuggled her head into Sandy's chest. "You loved that house."  
  
"I did," Sandy agreed, smiling fondly.  
  
"You loved the creaky old porch swing. You loved watching the guests accidentally pull off the broken doorknob and frantically try and replace it before anyone noticed. And you love that bed." Kirsten smiled. "You remember that bed, don't you?"  
  
While living in Berkeley with no financial support from Kirsten's estranged father or Sandy's estranged mother, they struggled to make ends meet. The house and their junker car constantly needed repairs, and there were the basic necessities of raising a kid: diapers, a crib, every adorable toy that happened to catch Kirsten's eye. By the time Seth grew out of his crib, a new bed for their son was out of the question financially. All they had was the large wooden bed in the master bedroom (if you could call it that) that had come with the house. Other furniture was scarce, and not large enough to comfortably house any of them for the night. All three Cohens had shared the bed, with little Seth sleeping in the middle, until they had come up with enough money to buy him his own big boy bed. It had been about two years.  
  
"It made sex pretty damn difficult," Sandy reminded her. "We had to hire a baby-sitter and find some place to spend the evening."  
  
"Or you took a day off work when Seth had school," Kirsten added, rubbing her hand over Sandy's chest. She sighed.  
  
"And there was that nasty bed wetting phase he hit after the diapers came off," Sandy said, cringing. "That lasted a little too long for my liking."  
  
Kirsten smiled a little. "Waking up wet, we always used to say."  
  
"I loved that bed," Sandy said, kissing the top of her head gently.  
  
And they had, despite all of those drawbacks. They loved the cozy family they had had in Berkeley. They loved cuddling together on the bed, watching their son doze off. When there were nightmares, they were both by Seth's side to soothe his fears and tears. It was nice, all the affection and love. They were a close-knit family. Even when Seth got his own bed in his own room, they had still shared three meals a day together and went for long drives on the weekends. When they moved to Newport, things had slowly come undone in their once close family. Seth drifted away, a little bit at a time, gradually retreating into himself and moving away from his parents. It was nice to remember a time when they had all had time for each other, when work and bills and charity events hadn't prevented them from being together all the time.  
  
"How do you think they're doing?" Kirsten asked suddenly. "Should I call and check up on them?"  
  
"I'm sure they're fine," Sandy reassured her. "Ryan will watch out for Seth." He paused, his eyes twinkling. "He's a good baby-sitter." He bit his lip, his face turning serious. "He's a good brother."  
  
"He is," Kirsten agreed quietly, snatching a stray fry that had fallen onto their tray. "He's a lot like you."  
  
"No." Sandy shook his head gently. "Seth is like me. Ryan..his situation is a lot like mine was, but he's like you. He has your quiet strength." Sandy kissed her temple lovingly.  
  
"They're good boys," Kirsten whispered.  
  
"The best," Sandy agreed. "Even if they get into trouble all the time."  
  
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII  
  
Ryan rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and sighed in frustration. Pre-calculus was hell, and he had a killer test the next day. Even with Journey blasting in the background he couldn't seem to make sense of the equations before him. He slammed his book shut, shaking his head. Maybe he needed a break.  
  
The clock next to the bed told Ryan that he had been studying for an hour and a half. He yawned, figuring he'd go check on Seth. He hadn't wanted to leave him, but he really had to study if he wanted to pass the class. Despite his high score on the placement exam, Ryan was barely scraping by in his weaker subjects, like math. They expected him to know a lot of things already, stuff he'd never been taught in the Chino schools. Ryan was basically playing a frantic game of catch-up in most of his classes.  
  
Silencing Journey for the time being, Ryan exited the guest bedroom. Sandy liked it when he slept there, and Ryan was happy to do anything that made any of the Cohens happy. So he was moving his things from the pool house to the guest bedroom, albeit not all at once. Part of him liked to hang on to what Seth jokingly referred to as his "Fortress of Solitude."  
  
Ryan smiled upon entering the living room, finding Seth lying on the couch, fast asleep, half of his body hanging precariously over the edge of the furniture. The video game was still on, bright colors flashing across the screen and making Seth's pale face glow ten different colors.  
  
He sighed, knowing he had to bring Seth upstairs to bed. Ryan quickly packed up the video game console, shoving all the loose wires behind the television and fishing Seth's controller out from underneath the couch.  
  
"Seth..hey..Seth.." Ryan shook his friend's shoulder gently. He frowned slightly at the dark purple rings that hugged Seth's eyes, and the unnaturally pale pallor of Seth's skin.  
  
Seth stirred slightly, a tiny groan escaping his lips. He swallowed, and his body twisted a little.  
  
"No.." he mumbled. "Don't wanna move."  
  
"C'mon, Seth. Gotta get to your room, then you can sleep," Ryan offered, wrapping his arms around Seth's mid-section and helping him off of the couch.  
  
"Carry me, Chino," Seth grumbled, a tiny smile making its way to his lips.  
  
"Shut up, Cohen," Ryan answered, returning the smile.  
  
The boys made their progress to the stairs, Ryan holding Seth up slightly, while Seth's head leaned heavily on Ryan's shoulder. Seth could hardly keep his eyes open so, resigned, he kept them closed.  
  
"A lot of things are gonna change when I'm gone," Seth said, his voice thick and slow-sounding, as they reached the top of the stairs. Seth was practically breathless.  
  
"You're not going anywhere," Ryan answered with a grim determination, surprised that Seth would talk so freely about his own uncertain mortality.  
  
"I meant when I go to the hospital," Seth corrected him, chuckling softly.  
  
The laughter poured into Ryan's ears and he felt an unexplainable surge of warm affection for the Seth. The kid was sick, confused, and exhausted, and still managed to make Ryan look stupid.  
  
"What's going to change?" Ryan asked, pushing Seth's door open, thankful Seth had left it half-open.  
  
"Stuff," Seth said, slurring the word slightly. "My mom and dad. Summer."  
  
Ryan placed Seth gently on his bed. He pulled Seth's covers over his slender body, and Seth smiled appreciatively, eyes still closed.  
  
"Thanks, man," he said quietly.  
  
"How..how are things going to change?" Ryan asked, shivering at how noticeably sick Seth looked with the only light in the room being from the hallway lamp.  
  
"Summer, she'll be kind of bitchy to others. Allow this to happen, as it's her one true release." Seth's voice cracked slightly. "She'll shop a lot. Make sure she doesn't go alone too often. Talk her out of going to any parties; she'll get wasted off her ass and do things we'll all regret. But if she really starts doing stupid things, please get her to talk to someone in this house."  
  
Seth cleared his throat slightly. "Mom..you gotta watch her. Especially with the drinking. She does it a lot under stress. Gets pretty bad hangovers and all. She's got too much pride to risk being seen getting hammered, so she'll only do it around the house. Try and stop her if you can." Seth swallowed thickly. "When she drinks Mom and Dad fight a lot. Things get ugly. Just like, keep her occupied. And keep up the dinnertime conversation. You'll know she's at her worst if she turns on the Mannilow. If that happens, share a pint of mint chocolate chip with her and watch some sappy Tom Hanks movie. Works like a charm."  
  
"O-okay," Ryan stuttered, thinking how open Seth could be when he was too tired to remember that he was self-centered.  
  
"Be really careful around Dad if he starts speaking rapid-fire Hebrew. That's when you'll know he's on the edge of meltdown," Seth continued, his voice shaky. "Let him hug you and smother ya with love, because that's his way when he's really depressed. Tell him you love him if you don't have a problem with that." Seth sighed. "He'll want to do weird things like go through the old photo albums and watch home movies. Keep him company as much as you can. When he's alone and upset he does some pretty destructive things. And keep up the joking. He likes that." Seth coughed. "Oh, and smell him a lot. Check his pockets and briefcase. Can't have him going back to the cigarettes."  
  
"Got it," Ryan agreed. "Anything else?"  
  
"Yeah," Seth said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. "There's this guy, Ryan, who carries the world around on his shoulders. He's got this crazy hero complex going on, which is why I trust him to take of the parental units and the girlfriend. But make sure you tell him to cut loose and shoot the shit sometimes, okay? Don't blame himself for everything, like if Mom gets drunk of Dad starts smoking again and he can't do anything to stop 'em. Tell him to keep those grades up, play his soccer, and that there's no luck with pot. Tell him he's a good brother."  
  
Ryan nodded, feeling a tear trickle down his cheek. "I'll do that."  
  
"Night, Ryan."  
  
"Goodnight, Seth."  
  
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII  
  
Ryan burst into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him, his heart racing wildly.  
  
He hadn't cried since he'd gotten the news of Seth's cancer, at least not really. He'd spilled one or two tears when Sandy first told him, but quickly dried up when he realized he couldn't worry Kirsten or Sandy. He hadn't cried when Seth came home from the hospital after his bone marrow aspirations, tired and forlorn. But now he couldn't stop himself.  
  
An angry sob burst from Ryan's lips, and he grabbed his pre-calc book from the desk and threw it against the wall with every ounce of strength in his body. The damage was minimal, and not enough to soothe Ryan's rage.  
  
Ryan leaned heavily on the door, his body sliding the ground. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed like a little boy lost. He hadn't cried like that since his father went to jail, leaving him alone to hold up his distressed mother.  
  
This felt so much worse.  
  
A/N: I should have another chapter soon. And don't worry, I pick up the pace a bit. As always, R&R 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Standard disclaimers apply. To make up for such a long time gap between chapters, here is a super long one, just for my lovely readers. I am trying to quicken the pace and not drag everything out, but I'm a recovering detail-aholic and obsessive compulsive, so please bear with me as every possible emotion is expressed in every possible way. Thank you, dearest readers, and please hit the review button when you are done reading.  
  
Chapter 8  
  
The week seemed to go by at warp speed, and before everyone knew it, it was Wednesday, Hospital Day Eve, as Seth referred to it.  
  
The week, quick as it seemed, was rough on all of them. Seth went back and forth from the hospital to home, each test crueler and more unusual than the last. He spent the majority of each day sleeping on the couch. He knew his parents liked being near to him, and they did everything possible to be able to do their work beside the couch. As stifling as they could be at times, Seth had to admit it was great having them around, especially when he hit a major bout of vomiting. As independent as he usually was, it was comforting to have someone rub your back while you yakked up meals you hadn't even eaten.  
  
The rest of the family tried to press on normally, but found it near impossible. Ryan found himself withdrawing even more from family affairs, trying to be neither seen nor heard, figuring the Cohens already had enough crap to deal with. He was trying to be the picture-perfect son, and it was wearing him out when added to his massive load of homework. But he had to help Sandy and Kirsten out in any way possible. And when he wasn't helping out, he was playing video games and joking around with Seth.  
  
Sandy and Kirsten attempted to juggle caring for Seth and their jobs, and they did it well, but cut out all leisure time. They were tired, stressed, and worried. Sandy found himself actually looking forward to his first counseling session on Friday, with a Dr. Newton. He hadn't mustered up the guts to admit to Kirsten that he was actually talking to a hospital psychiatrist, and wasn't sure when he would tell her. Any free time he had was spent with Seth. They mostly just sat around playing video games until Ryan got home from school, at which time Ryan would take Sandy's spot, or Seth would go to sleep and Ryan and Sandy would play the pirate game that Seth loathed. And at the end of the day, Sandy retreated to bed, exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and slept with his arms wrapped around Kirsten.  
  
Kirsten threw herself into her work, burying her nose into the facts and figures that normally didn't go along with her executive position. She did so while still staying close to home, doing all her accounting on her laptop. She couldn't be even slightly at ease if she didn't have at least one eye on Seth. She began to wonder if maybe she could use that counseling that Dr. Pearson had offered. She couldn't seem to talk to Sandy about her doubts and fears, and she sure as hell couldn't discuss them with Seth. She did find herself confiding bits and pieces of her mind with Ryan on random occasions, but she usually stopped herself before revealing anything big. She didn't want to worry Ryan, but his quiet sensitivity just put her in a place where she felt like he would understand. But she had to stop that. He was just a kid.  
  
Caleb went back to his own home, but visited almost daily with a new gift for Seth. He and Sandy were, for once, civil around each other, which both amused and pleased everyone else, the former one because they could actually see the two straining not to verbally attack one another. Caleb had actually lightened up considerably, at least for Seth's sake, and even challenged Sandy to a rousing race on the Moo Moo Farm track on Mario Kart. Sandy won by inches, and it probably took every ounce of self-restraint not to jump up and do a victory dance.  
  
Summer came by every day, and stayed late into the night. Her father and stepmother didn't care, and she made Seth happy, so Sandy and Kirsten weren't about to force her to go home. Since Seth's bedroom was off-limits, they sat together on the couch, she resting in his arms. And they weren't uncomfortable about being that way when everyone else was in the room. They were just happy to be with each other and cozy, bickering innocently and trading insults. There was an underlying tenderness to their relationship that radiated through the room.  
  
Ryan and Summer mutually decided that they had to make Seth's Hospital Day Eve as much fun as they thought he could handle. They had the whole afternoon with him; he slept in later each morning, and Kirsten and Sandy had made dinner plans at Seth's favorite restaurant, The Happy Clam Palace. While they had invited Ryan, Caleb, and Summer, all three of them thought it was better that they have a private dinner, just Seth and his parents. They knew that that was really how Kirsten and Sandy wanted it anyway. Either way, Seth's whole day was booked up.  
  
After much debate, Ryan and Summer had settled on a day at the beach. They spent most of the day just lying around and talking.  
  
Seth lay on his beach towel, under the umbrella that Summer had set up. He was clad in a baseball cap, sunglasses, sweatpants, and a hooded sweatshirt.  
  
"Honestly, Cohen, you look like you're hiding from the paparazzi," Summer teased gently. She curled up beside him, wearing a skimpy bikini.  
  
Seth kissed the top of her head gently. "I'm a little cold," he admitted. He stroked her hair gently.  
  
Ryan was lying, eyes closed, on the blanket beside them. He rolled over and grabbed a Mountain Dew from the cooler Summer had packed. In fact, Summer had packed a whole picnic basket for them. Ryan had to admit that she had been bending over backwards to show Seth a good time.  
  
"Want anything?" He asked.  
  
"No thanks, dude," Seth answered.  
  
"Nah," Summer answered.  
  
Ryan shut the cooler and popped the top. He took a large sip of Mountain Dew.  
  
Seth sighed. "How am I gonna tell people about this?" He paused. "Not that I can think of many people who'd care." He scratched his head. "But, I mean, I'll get the crap kicked out of me if I just randomly show up at school bald one day."  
  
Summer frowned. "You mean you haven't told anybody yet?"  
  
"Have your parents told anyone else?" Ryan asked, sitting cross-legged.  
  
"I don't think they've even been with anybody else long enough to bring it up," Seth admitted, pulling his baseball cap down lower on his head. "You guys tell anybody else?"  
  
"Nope," Summer replied, kissing his neck tenderly.  
  
"Who would I tell?" Ryan asked, shrugging.  
  
"I tried to call Anna, but she's out of town," Seth said with a small frown.  
  
Summer sighed. "What time do you have to go tomorrow?"  
  
"My dad's taking me at noon," Seth responded. "Mom's working, Ryan's got school."  
  
"I'd ditch, but your dad said no," Ryan explained.  
  
"It's cool," Seth replied.  
  
"Kirsten's taking me after school," Ryan added brightly.  
  
Seth nodded. He was a little nervous about getting checked into the hospital, even though his father had promised he'd spend the first night with him. And the second, if he wanted, though Seth didn't want to put his father out at all. He'd have to get used to being alone in his room anyway.  
  
"Having fun?" Summer asked, leaning over and kissing him on the lips.  
  
"Mmm..yeah." Seth grinned happily at his girlfriend. "You done good, pretty lady."  
  
Summer nuzzled up closer to Seth, while Ryan tried not to stare openly.  
  
"And pretty man," Seth added, leaning over and flicking Ryan's shoulder.  
  
"Ha, ha," Ryan mumbled dryly.  
  
"Seriously, kids, thanks for taking me here." Seth yawned loudly. "I don't know how I would've handled this if it'd happened before I knew you guys." He usually didn't like being so serious, but he really felt like he had to tell Ryan and Summer how much they were helping him.  
  
Ryan nodded, not sure what he could say to that. As scared as he was for his best friend, he was glad that he'd be there to help him through it. He couldn't imagine what it would be like if Seth had been diagnosed before he came to Newport, with no friends to support him, and only his parents to stand by him.  
  
"All right, that's enough of those sappy moments," Summer said brightly. "Let's do something."  
  
"I thought we were doing something," Seth answered, wrinkling his forehead. He leaned back, feeling exhausted. "I'm kinda nauseous," he admitted with a sigh. His reading material said the sun could do that to him  
  
"So what do you wanna do now?" Ryan asked, chugging the last of his Mountain Dew.  
  
"I dunno." Seth sighed, his fingers still gently going through Summer's hair. He bit his lip. "Actually, you know what would be good?"  
  
"What?" Summer asked curiously.  
  
"A movie," Seth replied. "You sit still for two hours and get entertained. It's not physically draining at all." He nodded. "And there's that new Ray Romano flick. And you know my affection for the neurotic Italians."  
  
"Sounds good," Ryan agreed.  
  
"All right, we're off to the movies," Seth announced, standing up with a smile/  
  
Ryan scooped up all their beach gear and the trio marched onward toward Summer's car.  
  
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ  
  
Sandy sighed. He had a pounding headache, but he had to look over the accounting books before he could go back home to pick up Kirsten and Seth for dinner. Jimmy sat across from him, inhaling some Chinese food. The restaurant was coming along well, but Sandy had to admit he'd been putting a half-assed effort in ever since Seth had been diagnosed.  
  
"You sure you don't want any, Sandy?" Jimmy asked, holding up his carton of moo shoo pork.  
  
"Huh?" Sandy glanced from Jimmy to the take-out carton. "Uh, no thanks Jimmy." He tried to smile, but it wouldn't reach his face.  
  
"Something wrong?" Jimmy asked, placing the food on the table. He reached over and shut the account book Sandy had been working in.  
  
"No, no." Sandy shook his head. He tried to reopen the book, but Jimmy kept his hand pressed firmly over it. Sandy swallowed a lump in his throat. He hadn't told Jimmy yet. In fact, he hadn't told anyone, not even his mother. He wasn't sure how Nana Cohen would react to the news, though he was fairly certain it would involve a lot of drama, and a few hundred tons of meat loaf, or the equivalent "healing food."  
  
"C'mon, Sandy. You've been in a daze this past week. You hardly talk, you don't eat..." Jimmy trailed off. "And no offense, but you look like crap. Don't try and tell me nothing's going on."  
  
Sandy sighed. "It's nothing. Really."  
  
"Sandy, we're friends now. You can tell me what's going on." Jimmy looked truly concerned. "I mean, you've always listened to me when I'm having problems with Marissa."  
  
Sandy exhaled a deep breath, closing his eyes. He rubbed his face with both hands. He played with his pen, twisting it around his fingers. It would feel good to tell someone. Ah, what the hell.  
  
"Seth..uh...Seth has cancer," he said in a half-whisper. God, the words hurt. "Leukemia." That word sent a nail into his side.  
  
"Oh, God, Sandy, I'm sorry." Jimmy paused. "Is there anything I can do for you or Kirsten...or Seth..oh, the poor kid." He shook his head sadly.  
  
"No thanks, Jimmy. But, I appreciate the offer. I really do." Sandy forced a tiny smile.  
  
"That's rough," Jimmy whispered softly. "But look, you need anything, I'm right here." He paused, wringing his hands. "I mean, time off from the restaurant...someone to talk to...moo shoo pork." He held up the food carton, and both men chuckled nervously.  
  
"Thanks, Jimmy," Sandy said with a grateful smile. He ran a hand through his hair, and focused his attention back on work. "I have to get this done. Seth goes to the hospital tomorrow and Kirsten and I are taking him out to dinner tonight."  
  
"Forget about it," Jimmy offered enthusiastically, grabbing the book from Sandy. "It'll be there whenever you're ready." He paused. "That is, assuming you don't trust me with the finances."  
  
"Not at this point, no," Sandy replied quickly. He sighed, giving Jimmy an appraising look. "You sure it's okay I cut out early?"  
  
"Go," Jimmy insisted, grabbing the account book from under Sandy. "You need to be with your family now."  
  
Sandy stood up. He didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed his briefcase and threw everything in hap hazardously.  
  
"Thanks Jimmy," Sandy said, checking his watch. He had time to shower and clean up before dinner, if he hurried. "I'll see ya."  
  
"Take as much time as you need with him. It's no problem." Jimmy smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Give me a call, let me know, huh?"  
  
"Thanks. I will." Sandy waved one last time before practically sprinting out of the restaurant and into his car. It had been hard to just work and work and pretend like nothing was wrong. He hopped into the Range Rover and loosened his tie. He wanted to make Seth's Hospital Day Eve as relaxing and enjoyable as he could possibly make it.  
  
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ  
  
When Seth, Ryan, and Summer returned to the Cohen house from the movie, Kirsten and Sandy were sitting on the living room couch, trying to pretend like they hadn't been anxiously awaiting their arrival.  
  
"Hey, kids. How was your day?" Kirsten asked, closing the magazine she hadn't been reading.  
  
"Pretty good," Seth replied. He had one arm around Summer, and he used his hand to pull off his sunglasses and hat, which he tossed on the couch.  
  
Sandy and Kirsten exchanged worried glances. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles were practically swallowing him whole. He looked drastically worse from when he was first diagnosed.  
  
"We hit the beach for awhile." Seth paused. "FYI, Ryan lost his trunks in the undertow. Hilarity ensued." He grinned at Ryan, who's face turned pink. "Then we went to see the new Ray Romano flick."  
  
"How was it?" Sandy asked.  
  
"I'll say this: my love affair with the Italians is still going strong." Seth sighed and held his hand over his heart. He'd enjoyed the day, but that nagging fear did not leave his mind for a moment. It was mostly a fear of the unknown. He was going to the hospital the next day, and he had no idea what to expect.  
  
"You ready for dinner, sweetheart?" Kirsten asked, smiling gently at her son.  
  
Seth yawned. "Just about. I just have to go get changed and I'll be all set."  
  
"You sure you're up for it?" Sandy asked, concerned.  
  
"Yeah, no problem." Seth grinned. "I've been looking forward to it all week."  
  
Sandy and Kirsten smiled warmly at their son. Sandy reached out and clasped Kirsten's hand.  
  
"I better get going," Summer said. "It's my stepmom's birthday." She smiled. "Bye Mr. Cohen. Mrs. Cohen. Chino." She looked up at Seth. "Walk me to my car?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Summer and Seth walked out to Summer's car, Seth's arm draped around her shoulders. He dropped his arm once they reached the car door, which he chivalrously opened for his girlfriend.  
  
"So...tomorrow?" Summer said, avoiding Seth's eyes. She could feel tears about to spill out from her eyes.  
  
Seth hugged her close, and the couple rocked a little, almost as if they were dancing. He kissed the top of her head lightly.  
  
"It'll be okay," he whispered.  
  
Summer pulled back a little, and kissed Seth passionately on the lips, her hand gently stroking his curls. She was scared by how much she felt for him. She didn't want to let go of her emo nerd. It was confusing. She'd never felt that strongly about a guy. She wasn't sure if any of her past boyfriends would have made her feel this way had they suddenly announced they had cancer. What was it about Seth Cohen?  
  
"Thanks for making my day, Roberts," Seth said, smiling coyly.  
  
"No problem, Cohen." Summer rubbed his face gently, her fingers brushing his dimples. "Though if you pull that Ray Romano impression on me again, you're dead." She bit her lip, realizing what she'd said. "Sorry."  
  
"Nah, it's cool." Seth stroked her hair softly. "I don't want to see the day when Summer Roberts starts watching what she says."  
  
Summer kissed him again, closing her eyes, enjoying the taste of his soft lips. They tasted like chocolate.  
  
"I really do have to go," Summer said sadly, pulling away a little. "My stepmom's a real bitch if I'm late." She frowned.  
  
Seth kissed her forehead tenderly. "It's okay. I have to go too. Tell your dad I said he's a tool."  
  
Summer giggled. She wrapped her arms around Seth's waist and hugged him close to her body, inhaling the scent of Bounce fabric softener and Dove soap. She closed her eyes, and began rubbing circles on Seth's back.  
  
"I have something for you," she whispered into Seth's neck.  
  
"Oh, yeah. So we're doing it in the car these days, huh?" Seth replied. "Pretty kinky for a prude like you, but I'll take it."  
  
Summer smacked his chest lightly. "Ew, no." She reached into her car and pulled out a blue gift bag overflowing with purple tissue paper. She brushed the hair from her face and smiled sweetly. "I wanted you to have a few things."  
  
"You're gorgeous," Seth said, digging into the bag. The first thing he felt was something soft and stuffed.  
  
"It's the Good Luck Bear," Summer explained, as Seth pulled the small green Care Bear with the four leaf clover on his chest out of the bag. "I figured you might need it when..I mean.."  
  
Seth pulled her into a one-armed hug and gently kissed her temple. "It's perfect." He reached into the bag again, and smiled at what he found. "Princess Sparkle. Aw, Summer you didn't have to give her up. Oh, Captain Oats will sho be pleased with me lady's hooves."  
  
"I figured Captain Oats would need some company," Summer said quietly. "Make sure they use protection."  
  
They both laughed.  
  
"Don't be a stranger now," Seth requested quietly. "Come by frequently and tend to my wounds please, dear."  
  
Summer hid her face in Seth's chest so he wouldn't see her teary eyes. Once she felt properly composed, she kissed him one last time, a long, lingering, kiss.  
  
"I'll see ya, Cohen," she whispered softly.  
  
"See ya, Summer."  
  
Their hands lingered on each other's, until they finally parted.  
  
Seth watched her car disappear down the driveway. He sighed, feeling exhausted and sad. He wished Summer were still right by him, holding his hand. She made things so much easier to deal with. He walked quietly into his house.  
  
Sandy and Kirsten were cuddled close together when he reappeared in the living room. Ryan was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Ew. Make me a little brother or sister some other time," Seth said loudly, his eyes twinkling. Without waiting for a reply, he headed for the stairs. "I have to get changed. Be back in a flash."  
  
"A flash," turned out to be ten minutes. Seth wasn't sure when it started taking him ages to do something as simple as making himself presentable at the Happy Clam Palace, but he found himself almost too tired to lift his arms. When he finally met his parents at the bottom of the stairs, he was about ready to drop.  
  
"You're sure you want to go, Seth?" Kirsten asked.  
  
Seth nodded. "Do not fret, my dear. I am fully primped and ready to roll."  
  
"All right then. Hope we're all prepared for a night of fanciful dining at the Happy Clam Palace," Sandy said, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
"Can I order off the kid's menu?" Seth asked eagerly. "Because I want some freaking macaroni and cheese." He paused. "And a Happy Clam Crown."  
  
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ  
  
The Happy Clam Palace was practically deserted, and the Cohens all felt more at ease in the absence of others. Seth got his requested macaroni and cheese, Sandy ordered a BLT, and Kirsten a cheeseburger. Seth wore his Happy Clam Crown with pride, and he played with the Happy Clam Toy cheerily.  
  
"Oh man, this mac and cheese is bitchin'!" Seth exclaimed, shoveling a large spoonful into his mouth. He glanced over at Kirsten, who was rolling her eyes. "Sorry, Mom. I should probably come up with some better adjectives."  
  
Kirsten just laughed and rubbed Seth's head affectionately.  
  
"Mind the crown, Mother." Seth reached up to straighten it on his head. "You know I ripped the other one last time when we got in that fist fight in the parking lot."  
  
"Yeah, Kirsten, you've been known to fight dirty," Sandy told her, patting her hand comfortingly. "Going after a guy's crown is just unethical."  
  
"I was merely being resourceful," Kirsten said in a fake pout, smiling to herself. She was proud that she could keep up with Sandy and Seth's wild and crazy banter, at least for once.  
  
The family ate in awkward silence for a few minutes, their eyes constantly meeting one another's, then looking away quickly.  
  
"Seth," Sandy began clearing his throat.  
  
"Yes, dear Father?" Seth asked, swallowing.  
  
"I want you to know that I'll stay with you at the hospital as many nights as you need me to. Same goes for your mother." Sandy looked at Kirsten, who nodded emphatically in confirmation.  
  
"I know," Seth said softly, staring intently at his macaroni and cheese.  
  
"I don't want you to be afraid to ask us to be there with you. Or be afraid to ask for anything." Sandy paused, wishing Seth would look him in the eye. "We're going to fight this with you, Ryan too. You need anything, you call me. Don't hesitate. I'll drop everything, no matter what. Promise me that, Seth."  
  
"Okay." Seth nodded. He looked up into his father's eyes and smiled sadly. "I promise."  
  
"Good." Sandy smiled, as if to say "Now that that's over with..." He reached over and squeezed Seth's hand firmly. "We love you, kiddo."  
  
Seth could feel tears spring up in his eyes. He nodded, choking out, "Love you guys."  
  
Sandy rubbed Seth's hand gently, not saying anything more. He focused his attention back on his sandwich, knowing it'd be best if he just stopped talking.  
  
Seth continued shoveling more macaroni and cheese into his mouth, gradually regaining control of his feelings. He'd almost let the tears take over his body again, and he couldn't break down then. He needed to have a nice dinner with his parents, if not for them, then for himself. He was scared shitless about going to the hospital, and he needed something good to carry with him. Not some moment tainted by him turning into a puddle of sap.  
  
Some singing from the kitchen caught his attention. Seth's ears perked up. He glanced over at Sandy, who was grinning, really grinning, and not just fake grinning like he'd been doing for the past week.  
  
"You didn't," Seth said, feeling a real smile creep up on his face again.  
  
They did.  
  
Happy Clam Palace waiters and waitresses crowded around the Cohen table, all singing "For He's Jolly Good Fellow." The Happy Clam clam mascot placed a large chocolate sundae in front of Seth, before the crew broke into their most well-known number:  
  
"Happy happy birthday, from all of us to you. We wish it was our birthday so we could party too! Hey!"  
  
The Cohens clapped, and Sandy put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.  
  
"Bravo! Bravo!" He cheered. "Encore!"  
  
The Happy Clam gave Sandy a high-five, and then bowed gracefully. The whole crew disappeared quickly into the kitchen.  
  
"Aw, Dad, you told them it was my birthday again. You're such a talented liar." Seth smiled. The last time Sandy had lied to the gullible Happy Clam Palace staff had been freshmen year, Homecoming, when Sandy took Seth out to make sure he didn't spend the whole night moping in his room. It had worked to at least get a laugh out of him then, and it seemed to be working again.  
  
"Want any?" Seth asked, gesturing to his sundae.  
  
"Nah. You enjoy it," Sandy replied, a warm smile spreading across his mouth. He scooted his chair closer to Kirsten and put his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head gently and they watched Seth happily devouring his ice cream.  
  
"I was beginning to think he was becoming more mature," Kirsten said softly, leaning her head on Sandy's shoulder.  
  
"Heard it. Processed it. Couldn't care less," Seth chirped. He glanced up at his parents and smiled. "Thanks, you guys."  
  
Kirsten and Sandy just smiled.  
  
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ  
  
Ryan sat on the living room couch, trying to read the book he'd been assigned for English, but he kept hopping up and looking out the window, checking to see if the Cohens were back yet. It was only eight, but Ryan still felt a little worried. He hoped they hadn't tired Seth out to much at the beach. Seth seemed to grow weaker as the days wore on. Ryan wished there could just be some miracle pill that could cure cancer. He wanted his crazy, exuberant, best friend back, not the one who slept practically non- stop, and seemed mostly disoriented when awake. It was hard to see him like that.  
  
Ryan got up for the umpteenth time to check the driveway. They'd taken the practically noiseless BMW, which bothered Ryan more than it should have. He just wanted to know the exact moment that they came back, so he could be there to greet them, and say good night to Seth, who would inevitably be on his way to bed.  
  
No car in sight. Ryan flopped back down on the couch, sighing. He was surprised, and even a little scared, at how he'd grown so attached to the Cohen family, especially Seth. His safety, health, and happiness meant more to him than Trey's ever had. Seth was the best brother and the best friend he'd ever had. It was hard to imagine what life in the Cohen household would be like without Seth. More than anything, Ryan was afraid that he'd have to live in the Cohen household without Seth permanently, despite Sandy's insistence that everything would work out fine. Ryan knew adults lied, sometimes with the best intentions, but lies all the same.  
  
What would dinner be like without Seth there to fill the silences with chatter about whatever the hell popped into his head? How was he supposed to sit there and eat without Seth's glorious ramblings? What about breakfast? Who would grouse about jocks that peed in shoes, and used the word "emo" as a slur?  
  
Ryan sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to chill out. But, shit, he was scared. Seth was his brother. He peered out the window, and cheered silently as he saw the BMW crawl up the driveway. They were home.  
  
Ryan didn't try to hide the fact that he'd been waiting up for them. He was standing right by the door when it swung open.  
  
Kirsten slipped in first, a serene smile on her face, but looking teary- eyed. She caught sight of Ryan, and it was as if her eyes were sucked dry. She put a hand on his shoulder gently and moved next to him so Sandy and Seth could enter.  
  
Seth shuffled in, the Happy Clam Crown still perched atop his head, and an exhausted smile on his face. Sandy was directly behind him, his hand resting on the small of Seth's back. Sandy had the same placid expression on his face, and Ryan smiled. Clearly, the night had gone pretty well.  
  
"Hey, dude," Seth greeted him, with a large yawn. "You didn't have to wait up for me, man. It's almost nine, which is way past your bedtime, little mister."  
  
"I just wanted to say goodnight," he said softly.  
  
"Yeah, 'cause the next time you see me I'm gonna be in the hospital," Seth replied bluntly. He caught the look on Ryan's face and frowned. "Dude, I'm sorry. C'mere."  
  
Seth took two steps forward and gave Ryan a brotherly hug. Ryan returned it, as awkward as physical affection made him feel, and he smiled, hand patting Seth's back gently. He hadn't even been there a year, and he was about to cry over Seth. Shit.  
  
Seth pulled back, and punched Ryan's shoulder with a grin.  
  
"Thanks, brother. You're a good kid." Seth gave him a little half-smile. "Dad'll have to keep you in line in my absence." He glanced up at his father, who smiled. "Somebody has to keep you from burning down another house."  
  
Ryan smiled softly. "You're hilarious, Cohen."  
  
Seth lifted an eyebrow comically. "Who? Me?"  
  
"So, I'll come see you tomorrow after school," Ryan said.  
  
"I'll pencil you into my Harry Potter planner," Seth replied with a lopsided grin.  
  
"What's sad is you probably have one," Ryan shot back, wondering how Seth could still be so quick with the one-liners.  
  
"Nerd power, it's a very powerful weapon. Take note." Seth shook a finger at his friend.  
  
Ryan caught Sandy's eye over Seth's shoulder. His eyes flicked from the stairs and back to Seth.  
  
"Yeah..but uh, I have to go do some homework...so tomorrow?" Ryan cleared his throat. He reached out a hand and patted Seth weakly on the shoulder. "Good luck, man."  
  
"Thanks, Chino," Seth said quietly. He turned to say something to his father.  
  
"See ya, Ryan," Sandy said a look of gratitude on his face.  
  
Ryan nodded slightly. He turned to walk towards the kitchen, but Kirsten's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked into her eyes, and saw the unconditional love he never saw in his own mother's eyes. She wrapped him into a large hug.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered into his ear. She kissed his cheek affectionately.  
  
Ryan didn't know what to say, but he knew he was on the verge of tears, so he slowly backed out of the room. Reaching the kitchen, he turned around and walked out, aware that everyone's attention was refocused on Seth. He was glad. Seth needed it more than he did.  
  
Kirsten's face twitched into an uneasy smile. She felt horrible not being able to help Sandy escort Seth to the hospital, but she had to work. There was some legal snafu that Caleb needed her help with, and the future of the company depended on their next move. Seth had insisted it was okay, though. If he'd asked her just once, she would've left Caleb in the dust to be with him.  
  
The goodnight was painful for her. He'd still be asleep when she left the next morning, she knew that much. That meant that the next time she'd be able to talk to him would be at the hospital. The very thought almost paralyzed her with fear. Her baby.  
  
"Seth, I'm sorry I can't be there with you," Kirsten said, grasping Seth's forearm gently.  
  
Seth held up a hand. "I told you, it's fine. Me and Dad'll be okay. We'll study the Koran and trash the Republicans."  
  
"That we will," Sandy piped up.  
  
"I'll be there as soon as I can," Kirsten promised. "You have my cell number, if you need anything your father can't get you." She paused, glancing at her husband. "Like intelligent conversation."  
  
"Mad props, Mom. You just burned Dad." Seth grinned. He smiled faintly at Kirsten and held out his arms. "C'mon, you big lug. I need some good hug action here."  
  
Kirsten enveloped Seth into a long, tender hug. She closed her eyes, thinking how grown up Seth really was. He was being so strong.  
  
"I love you, Seth," Kirsten told him softly.  
  
"I love you, Mom." Seth's smile was large and genuine. "Don't worry about me."  
  
Kirsten pulled back a little and kissed Seth softly on the forehead. She caressed Seth's cheek gently.  
  
"You'd better get to bed," Kirsten advised him. She kissed him once more on the cheek.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow," Seth answered softly. He smiled, and turned to his father. "Night, Dad."  
  
"Night, son." Sandy squeezed Seth's shoulder lovingly.  
  
Seth climbed the stairs slowly, his legs looking slightly shaky, but he smiled reassuringly down at his parents, so they made no move to help him.  
  
"I need a drink," Kirsten announced to her husband, once Seth was out of sight. She couldn't fight the tears any longer. 


	10. Chapter 10 The Hospital

Standard disclaimers apply.  
  
Chapter 10  
  
Kirsten sat at the kitchen table the next morning, occasionally sipping her coffee, but mostly staring off into space. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and she hadn't bothered to apply any make-up that morning. She'd gone in to kiss Seth good-bye, which almost set off an all new wave of tears, but she'd held back, for Ryan's sake at least.  
  
Ryan sat across from Kirsten. His eyes were dark and hooded, and he was practically laying face-first in his Lucky Charms. He didn't say a word, didn't even look at her. Kirsten wondered if he'd been put off when she'd kissed him last night. She'd just wanted to show her appreciation for how supportive Ryan had been of Seth.  
  
"Hey, everyone," Sandy said, without his usual cheer. He wasn't going in to work, but he had offered to drive Ryan to school.  
  
Sandy sighed as he filled his coffee cup. He hadn't slept at all, and his body was wracked with exhaustion. He'd probably have to down a couple of dozen cups of coffee before he'd be able to face the hospital.  
  
"Today's the big day," he said, stating what everyone else was thinking about. He walked over to Kirsten, kissed the top of her head, and settled in the seat beside her. "And I, for one, am depressed as hell."  
  
Ryan glanced up at him, his eyes giving away nothing. He obviously recognized Sandy's words as his segue into a deep discussion, and decided he wouldn't take the bait. Kirsten just stared into her cup, not even sparing Sandy a glance.  
  
Sandy was too tired to press on. They didn't want to spill their guts, they'd sit in awkward silence. That was fine by him.  
  
Ryan stood up, grabbing his mug and bowl and washing them out in the sink. He bit his lip and sighed.  
  
"I'm ready to go," he said quietly, trying to keep his voice controlled.  
  
Sandy nodded. "All right." He stood up and downed the rest of his coffee. He stooped down slightly and kissed Kirsten's cheek. "I'll be right out."  
  
Ryan nodded and grabbed his backpack from the back of his chair. "I'll be in the car," he announced. "Tell Seth I said hey."  
  
"I will."  
  
Ryan strode briskly out the front door.  
  
"I'll be back in a few minutes," Sandy told Kirsten softly.  
  
"Okay." She looked up at Sandy and gave him a tiny smile. "I'm depressed as hell too," she admitted.  
  
Sandy wrapped his arms around her shoulder in a hug. Their lips met in a loving kiss, the kiss of two people who had been together long enough to know when each other's smiles were full of shit. When they pulled away, they were both teary-eyed.  
  
"He'll be fine," Sandy whispered, resting his chin on the top of her head. "He has to be. God's screwed me enough in one lifetime."  
  
Kirsten snickered bitterly. She knew Sandy was right about that fact at least, but her faith in God wasn't the steadiest ship in the water, and hadn't been since her mother's death. And if there was a God up there, He clearly wasn't keeping score.  
  
Sandy massaged her back with both hands. He kissed the back of her neck tenderly.  
  
"I'll be back," he reminded her, and headed for the door.  
  
"Sandy!" Kirsten shot up in her chair.  
  
"What, what is it?" Sandy grabbed her arm, his eyes full of concern.  
  
Kirsten closed her eyes and sighed. "Sandy, we need to explain all this to Dr. Kim, don't we?"  
  
"Shit," Sandy mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "I knew we forgot something."  
  
Seth had only gone to school one day that week, allegedly because he had an important test that he just couldn't miss. Sandy suspected that he probably just wanted to see Summer.  
  
"So, do we call? Set up an appointment?" Kirsten asked.  
  
Sandy shook his head. "Our schedules will be pretty hectic for awhile." He glanced at his watch. "How much time do you have before Caleb's picking you up? We could drop in, tell Dr. Kim about it, then come right back."  
  
Kirsten winced. "Dropping in on Dr. Kim, unannounced? She's not exactly known for her love of spontaneity."  
  
Sandy shrugged. "Well, I'd rather we do it together, and this might be the only chance we get this week."  
  
"Let's do it," Kirsten said. "I'll just leave Seth a note in case he wakes up."  
  
"No need," Sandy replied. "He's sleeping like a baby. Plus, Ryan's waiting. We gotta shake a leg."  
  
Kirsten nodded, and followed Sandy out the door. She slid into the back seat of the Range Rover. Ryan, who was already belted into the passenger seat, glanced back at her curiously.  
  
"Sandy and I need to talk to Dr. Kim," Kirsten told him, staring at her hands resting in her lap.  
  
"Good luck," Ryan told her, smiling gently. "She and I don't have the best track record."  
  
Kirsten smiled a little bit. "You know I'd only been in Dr. Kim's office once before you came along."  
  
"What'd he do?" Ryan asked, as Sandy slid into his seat.  
  
"What are we talking about?" Sandy asked.  
  
"That time we had to go into Dr. Kim's office," Kirsten said, a quiet smile playing on her lips.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Sandy said, a large smile creeping up on his face. He laughed a little. "That was great."  
  
"What happened?" Ryan asked, smiling even though he wasn't in on their little story.  
  
"You know Seth; he's always doing crazy stuff. One day he was in some hippie kind of store at the mall and he dug up this tie-dyed shirt with a huge hippo on it. Naturally, he had to buy it and wear it the very next day." Sandy smiled broadly. "And of course, he couldn't just leave it at that. He carried a sign- a very small sign, mind you, just words written on notebook paper- that said "Save the Hippos," in big, block letters."  
  
"And Dr. Kim called you in for that?" Ryan asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
Kirsten giggled. "She thought that Save the Hippos was code for drugs."  
  
"I almost burst a gut trying not to laugh," Sandy added. He shook his head. "Dr. Kim is very no-nonsense. She wasn't too thrilled with Seth's "outlandish" behavior."  
  
"He get punished?" Ryan inquired.  
  
"Stern warning and he was told never to wear that shirt again," Sandy told him, his eyes finally losing that dull look they'd had that morning. "Crazy kid, I'll tell ya." He pulled into the parking lot of the school.  
  
"So, I'll see you later at the hospital?" Ryan tried to smile.  
  
Sandy squeezed his shoulder and smiled warmly. He nodded.  
  
"I'll pick you up after school and we'll go straight there," Kirsten told him. "I should be done by the time school lets out."  
  
"Okay." Ryan nodded, taking a deep breath.  
  
"It'll be okay," Sandy assured him. "Seth's a Cohen, a fighter."  
  
"Yeah." Ryan mustered up a smile. "He'll do fine. He'll charm the nurses at least, get some extra Jello cups. He'll make the best of it."  
  
Sandy smiled. "That's right."  
  
Ryan smiled at each of the Cohens. "So..uh, later." He pushed open the door and hopped out. He walked briskly toward the steps up to the classroom wing.  
  
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
"Hey, Chino."  
  
Ryan jumped a little bit. He turned around to see Summer leaning up against the school building, her arms crossed, a pout on her lips. She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. She'd clearly been waiting for him.  
  
Summer looked a little different, a little less high maintenance. She was wearing the Bright Eyes t-shirt Seth had bought her at one of the many concerts they'd attended, form-fitting jeans, and pink pumas.  
  
"Scare, ya Chino?" She asked without smiling, but not without any malice. She didn't look angry, just tired.  
  
"A little bit, yeah," Ryan admitted sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "You going to see Seth today?"  
  
Summer shivered a little, hugging her arms tighter to her chest. She stared at her shoes and sighed.  
  
"I can't today. My dad's got a thing, some dinner party, and I can't get out of it." Summer bit her lip.  
  
"Okay." Ryan nodded, his forehead wrinkling in mild concern. "You okay, Summer?"  
  
Summer nodded unconvincingly. "It's just scary. Cohen's..different. I never expected to like him this much. I never expected anything like this to happen. It's weird."  
  
"Yeah." Ryan swallowed. "It is."  
  
Just then Marissa came marching up to them, her expression livid, her eyes teary. She stopped in front of them, eyes dancing from Ryan to Summer, as if she weren't sure who to explode at first.  
  
"How could you not tell me?" Her voice was low and angry, and it trembled dangerously.  
  
"Tell you what?" Summer asked, though she had a good idea of what Marissa was referring to.  
  
Marissa ignored her. "All that time we talked on the phone, you never brought up the fact that Seth has cancer?" She practically yelled. The mass of talking students froze suddenly, eyes flicking over to the scene Marissa was creating. "Seth is my friend too. You should've told me."  
  
"He didn't want me to tell anyone," Summer said, backing up against the wall, seeming to shrink into herself. This was not the rage blackout girl that Seth knew and loved.  
  
"You should have told me anyway," Marissa insisted, a tear trailing down her cheek. "I thought you were my best friend." She turned to Ryan suddenly. "And you! I was over there almost every day last week. Did it just slip your mind? Did you forget?"  
  
"Who told you?" Ryan asked, trying very hard not to lose control.  
  
"I had to find out from my dad," Marissa replied spitefully. "He asked me at breakfast if I'd gone to see Seth lately...the poor kid. Naturally, I had no idea what he was talking about. 'Gee honey, I thought you'd know. I thought you and Seth were pretty good friends.' Well, I guess he's not my friend. I guess you're not my friends."  
  
Ryan put a hand of Marissa's shoulder. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He could see Summer out of the corner of his eye. The vulnerability was gone, and all that was left was the thought of murder.  
  
"I suggest you go now," he said, his voice low and serious. He was aware that everyone was watching them. He knew that by the end of the day, the whole school would know about Seth. Shit.  
  
"I just wanted you to know how much you hurt me," Marissa spat. "Maybe I'll stop and think twice the next time I start to consider someone my friend." She whirled around sharply and stormed away in a huff.  
  
The courtyard was deadly silent. Everyone's eyes were glued on Ryan and Summer, who had equally shocked expressions on their faces.  
  
The secret was out.  
  
0000000000000000000000000000000  
  
"Uh, yes. Sandy and Kirsten Cohen to see Dr. Kim." Sandy cleared his throat nervously, as he threw his most charming smile at the secretary. He always felt a little edgy around Dr. Kim, like a kid who'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  
  
The secretary hit a button on her phone and picked up the receiver. "Dr. Kim, Sandy and Kirsten Cohen to see you." She listened attentively and nodded toward the door of Dr. Kim's office.  
  
"You can go right in. A parent conference was just canceled. She should be free to see you."  
  
Sandy nodded his thanks, and Kirsten and Sandy slipped into Dr. Kim's office. Sandy and Kirsten settled into the two chairs in front of Dr. Kim's desk. Dr. Kim sat rigid in her chair, her hands folded, a blank, but vaguely stern expression pasted on her face.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen," she greeted them, nodding to Sandy and Kirsten in turn. "I was about to phone you about Seth's repeated absences. That is frowned upon here at Harbor. I trust there is an acceptable reason for your son's truancy?"  
  
"Yes." Sandy took Kirsten's hand and squeezed it tightly. "Seth has been diagnosed with leukemia." God, it never got easier to say those words aloud. Each time it was like a knife twisting in his gut.  
  
"I'm sorry," Dr. Kim said quietly, a proper look of remorse on her face. It unnerved Sandy just how proper it was. "Seth is an exemplary student, and one of Harbor's brightest."  
  
"Thank you," Kirsten said, with a smile that never quite reached her eyes.  
  
"However, he will need to keep abreast of his studies if he wants to pass," Dr. Kim added.  
  
"We understand that," Sandy told her, nodding. "He's going to be in and out of the hospital for an indefinite amount of time, but we want him to keep up with his schoolwork." He paused. "We've discussed hiring a tutor."  
  
"I think that would be a good idea," Dr. Kim replied. "There are tutors available through the school if you need help finding one. Until then I'll have his teachers drop his schoolwork off at the office, and Ryan can pick it up after school daily."  
  
"That would be great," Kirsten replied with a relieved smile.  
  
"I hope to see Seth back at Harbor soon. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to give me a call." Dr. Kim stood up, and the Cohens followed suit. She shook each of their hands in turn.  
  
"Thank you, Dr. Kim," Kirsten said graciously.  
  
"Tell Seth I said hello," she requested. "I'm very sorry he has to go through such a thing at such a young age."  
  
"We appreciate that," Sandy rasped, feeling a little too emotional to stay in one place. After a formal good-bye, the Cohens exited the office.  
  
000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
Seth was still asleep when Sandy and Kirsten arrived home. They retreated to the separate corners of the house that they had become used to since Seth's diagnosis; somehow, it was easier to forget when they weren't around each other. The kitchen was Kirsten's territory, while Sandy enjoyed the quiet, impersonal guest bedroom next door to Seth's room.  
  
Caleb soon arrived to pick up Kirsten. She left, gladly abandoning the too quiet house. She needed to throw herself into her work, as guilty as it made her feel afterwards.  
  
Sandy, meanwhile, took up Kirsten's spot at the kitchen counter when she left. He tried to read the paper, but the words blurred and swirled before his eyes. Tears welled up in his eyes as it dawned on him that ever since Seth had been diagnosed, he hadn't been able to function normally. Would he ever be able to function again?  
  
"Shit."  
  
Sandy tossed the paper aside and stood up, trying to keep his breathing even and steady. The last thing he needed at that moment was a panic attack. He walked slowly into the living room and threw himself onto the couch, mentally and physically exhausted. He stared up at the ceiling, mulling over his life.  
  
Sandy Cohen had always done the right thing, no matter what the consequences. Even back when he was a teenager in Brooklyn he always did what he knew in his heart was morally right. He'd gone up against gangs of guys bigger than him, and the scrawny Jewish boy always came out on top. Banged up, bruised, but on top. The only thing that held him back from greatness then was his anger. And boy was he angry. It was easy to be angry when your dad walked out and your mom may as well have. It was easy to be angry when you were brilliant around so much ignorance, but nobody listened to you because you were just a stupid punk kid. And Sandy fell into the trap of anger. People pissed him off. And when people pissed him off, he unloaded all his anger on them. He'd beaten up more people than he'd ever admit to either Seth or Ryan. He still remembered each and every guy he'd hit, and each and every reason he'd hit them. Sandy didn't regret any of the times he'd made a guy bleed. His reasons were sound, and to this day, just thinking about some of them made him angry all over again. Made him want to beat the living shit out of Mickey Turner who stole from the donation basket at the library.....  
  
Sandy thought he'd led a pretty good life. He knew he'd made some mistakes in the past, but he figured he and God had an understanding: what happened in Brooklyn and surrounding cities, stayed in Brooklyn and surrounding cities. He'd found ways to express his anger without using his fists. He passed the bar, and helped those who had nothing. He didn't cheat on his wife, he cared for his sons, he worked hard, didn't drink in excess, smoke, gamble, or watch too much television. So what did he do to deserve this?  
  
000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
Anna Stern took a quick inventory, making sure she had all of her essentials. Tray of lunch, of course; egg salad sandwich and a brownie. Everything seemed in order on that front. Small container of pineapple juice, check. Travel toothbrush, travel toothpaste, dental floss, check, check, check. Lunchtime had indeed arrived.  
  
She scanned the courtyard for a friendly face. Well, there was really only one friendly face around Harbor School, that being Seth Cohen's. She hadn't talked to him in what seemed like forever, but she'd been on vacation for two weeks. It had been a pleasant trip back to Pittsburgh, seeing all of her friends and everything, but she'd missed Seth the whole time. She'd be with her friends and not able to stop thinking how perfect Seth would fit in with them. She was well aware that they had no chemistry, but having him as a friend suited her fine, or would suit her fine. She still needed a little time on that one.  
  
Anna nibbled her brownie thoughtfully. It was hard to act like you were fine alone when you really weren't. Lunchtime always sucked like that.  
  
"Yeah, man, he has cancer."  
  
Anna's ears perked up at the words that had come from some jock sitting behind her. She wondered who they could possibly be talking about. While it was probably not anybody she knew or liked, cancer was pretty sad. Anna had lost her grandmother to breast cancer when she was nine, and it still hurt a little to think about.  
  
"Dude, seriously?" Some other jock asked.  
  
Anna rolled her eyes. She wanted to know who they were talking about. It was that incredible urge to know someone else's business. Once the urge took root, it could never die. Not until she knew.  
  
"Dude, who is this again?" The jock asked.  
  
Anna smiled a little. You could always count on their stupidity. She tilted her head slightly. She didn't want to miss this.  
  
"Umm..that really dorky kid. The one we beat the shit out of all the time..What's his name?"  
  
Anna froze. Her heart skipped a beat. No....  
  
"You mean the one that bagged Summer?"  
  
"Yeah, that one. The emo freak with the bad hair."  
  
Anna swallowed a lump in her throat. No. No. No.  
  
"Cohen. Seth Cohen," the jock spat out finally, sounding proud of himself.  
  
Anna stood up quickly. She wasn't hungry anymore. She just had to know if what they were saying was true. Did Seth Cohen have cancer?  
  
She strode quickly to the trashcan and dumped her whole tray. Her heart was pounding fiercely in her chest. It couldn't happen. Seth was her friend, and one of the few people in Newport who wasn't a total parasite. He couldn't just go and get cancer. No, it was impossible. Those jocks didn't know what they were talking about. Yeah, that was it.  
  
She entered the student center and spotted Ryan and Summer sitting on one of ugly-ass couches. They both had grave expressions on their faces, and were talking heatedly. Anna knew she should just leave them alone, but she couldn't.  
  
"Hey guys," she said quietly. They looked up at her questioningly. Summer looked like she'd been crying.  
  
"You heard," Ryan said softly.  
  
Anna nodded. "So, it's true?"  
  
Summer nodded, crossing her arms and closing her eyes.  
  
"He didn't even want to tell people yet, but now everybody knows." She sighed. "Goddamn Coop."  
  
"He was going to tell you," Ryan told Anna nervously. "But you weren't home when he called."  
  
Anna nodded. She had a message from him on her answering machine. Something about needing to talk, and how beautiful Tahiti must have been for her, how he wished he could go. It had seemed strange then, but maybe this explained it.  
  
"I'm sorry," Anna whispered. She turned to leave, but Summer stopped her.  
  
"Hey, Anna?"  
  
"Yeah?" Anna paused, her eyes brimming with tears. She really didn't want to cry in front of them.  
  
"Wanna sit down?" Summer asked. Her eyes were glassy, but she smiled weakly.  
  
"I'd like that," Anna responded, and she sat down beside Summer.  
  
00000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
"Seth...Seth..wake up buddy."  
  
Seth groaned, and squeezed his eyes shut tighter.  
  
"C'mon, cutie pants, let's go."  
  
Seth opened his eyes, perhaps only to roll them at the joke pet name his father called him sometimes just to piss him off. He smiled weakly at his dad, who sat on his bed and looked down at him with mild concern.  
  
"What time is it?" Seth mumbled, sitting up slightly.  
  
Sandy stood up. "It's about ten-thirty. You need breakfast. Then we'll get you packed; maybe play a little Nintendo, then head out."  
  
"Noon, right?" Seth asked groggily. He yawned. God, he was beat.  
  
"Yep." Sandy tried, and failed, to smile. "How are you feeling?"  
  
Seth sighed. "Do you have to ask?" He paused. "A little achy, icky, but I'll be okay. Much like Destiny's Child, I'm a survivor."  
  
"Son," Sandy began, "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, but I agree wholeheartedly."  
  
"That's all I can ask for," Seth responded with a tiny smile.  
  
"What do you want for breakfast?" Sandy asked.  
  
"Ah, I'm not really that hungry," Seth admitted with a shrug. "I'd rather not eat."  
  
"Seth, you have to eat something," Sandy told him, concerned. "Now, I know you're nervous, but you won't help yourself any if you don't eat."  
  
"What do we have?" Seth asked, resigned.  
  
Sandy's face brightened instantly. "Whatever the hell you want! In anticipation of this meal, I went out to the supermarket and bought every single food product I could shove in my cart."  
  
"Then I'll have a half pound of lard and some guacamole chips," Seth requested.  
  
"Sorry, ate all the lard while you were sleeping," Sandy said sadly. "But I do have someone's favorite pie downstairs."  
  
Seth grinned. "S'mores pie? For me?"  
  
"You betcha." Sandy smiled down at his son. "You hungry now?"  
  
"A little bit, I suppose," Seth responded, rubbing his eyes.  
  
"All right. But only eat as much as you can handle," Sandy warned.  
  
"Aye, aye, Captain." Seth saluted.  
  
"You're crazy, you know that?" Sandy asked, feeling a warm smile creep up on his lips. "Just get a move on. Time's a-wastin.'"  
  
Sandy watched Seth take tiny forkfuls of pie and eat them. He smiled sadly, but Seth was too engrossed in his pie to notice his father's stare. Sandy couldn't tear his eyes away from him; he was memorizing his face, and how he looked sitting there at the table. When would he be able to sit there again after today? Would he ever?  
  
He's too young, Sandy decided. Seth didn't look old enough to be battling anything potentially fatal. He was still that mop-haired, hyperactive, five year old in Sandy's mind. Sandy wasn't ready to let go.  
  
Seth sniffed, and swallowed another tiny bite of pie. His stomach seemed to be all over the place, and he was really only eating for his father's sake. He tried not to think about what would happen at the hospital, but of course, that didn't work. It was all his mind could focus on. He'd have a day to settle in there before beginning chemotherapy. What was it his father had said to him once, "The anticipation of death is far greater than death itself?" Something like that. He supposed that was how he felt. A large part of him just wanted to get the whole treatment deal over with, so he could go back to his normal, mostly paranoia-free life.  
  
"You better hurry up there, kiddo. We don't have too much time before we have to go," Sandy said softly.  
  
Seth rolled his eyes. "Why must you insist on calling me kiddo? Honestly." He smiled a little bit though, and Sandy mustered up a tiny grin. Seth bit his lip. "I'll go up and pack in one sec." He scarfed down one last bite of pie. "Done," he told him, though there was hardly a dent in the piece Sandy had cut for him.  
  
"All right. Go on. I'll be up in a minute," Sandy told him, grabbing Seth's finished pie and standing up.  
  
Seth nodded and walked toward the stairs. On the first step he remembered that he had to ask his father if they could pick up some batteries on the way, he turned back around, but stopped at what he saw in the kitchen.  
  
Sandy was sitting at the kitchen table, his head lying in his folded arms. His shoulders were shaking up and down violently, and Seth could hear his father sobbing, quiet and controlled, but when he strained, he could just make out the sound of ragged intakes of breath, and shuddery sighs, a sniffle here and there.  
  
Seth swallowed a lump in his throat, his face going as white as a sheet. He slowly turned, almost as if in a dream, and trudged up the stairs.  
  
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Doctors and nurses rushed around, all hurrying to get somewhere, passing off charts and files to whomever they passed, who immediately acted according to some unspoken instructions, and bustled on down the hallway. Still, the oncology floor managed to be a somber place. Everyone was very quiet and subdued, and even though they were striding briskly this way and that, they all seemed to be moving in slow motion.  
  
The wall was a mural of the sky, with puffy white clouds, a soft blue background, and golden angels dancing around the border, strumming harps and looking serene. Seth frowned. Was this supposed to make him feel better about the fact that he could die? Was he supposed to believe that heaven was that little fantasy land with the chubby babies jamming on their harps? And what, exactly, did he believe to begin with?  
  
Sandy had his arm around Seth's shoulders. Both of their faces were pale and their eyes red; Seth's eyes from sickness, Sandy's from crying. They took slow, halting steps, as if they were trying to let everything around them sink in one bit at a time. Doctors and nurses who passed by flashed them sympathetic smiles, or encouraging nods, knowing exactly what they were going through.  
  
A pretty nurse pushing a wheelchair with a young boy in it came into sight. The boy couldn't have been more than nine years old, and he looked to be on the brink of collapse. His skin was stark white, and his lips were purple and chapped. He was bald, a truth of cancer treatment Seth hadn't yet been able to confront.  
  
Seth swallowed a lump in his throat. The boy was carrying a prosthetic leg in his lap. He was one of the radiation treated patients. God, he just wanted to get out of there. He shuddered painfully, and looked away as the wheelchair retreated down the hallway, away from him.  
  
Sandy gave Seth a sideways hug, squeezing his son gently to his body. He'd seen the boy too.  
  
"It's gonna be okay," he whispered softly. He maneuvered his head so he could look into Seth's eyes. "Are you going to be okay?"  
  
Seth nodded, but his heart was still pounding incessantly. He knew his body was shaking, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of shame. He should've been stronger than that. He licked his lips and let out a loud breath.  
  
"Yeah..yeah..it's no problem."  
  
Sandy nodded, still unsure. "Okay then."  
  
Seth shrugged his father's arm off of his shoulder gently. He crossed his arms and hugged himself slightly as they continued walking towards the main desk, Seth walking a little ahead of his father.  
  
Sandy watched him walk, his heart clenching in pain. He wanted to do something to make this better for him. Obviously, Seth didn't want him smothering him, or babying him, or asking him every second whether he was all right. But how could he find the balance between smothering and ignoring? How much was too much? What was the right thing to do and say? Could he joke about it, try and get Seth to be more upbeat? What if the jokes crossed some invisible line and Seth just ended up retreating into himself, like back when Sandy used to make little remarks about how he was always at home, and Seth interpreted that as Sandy saying that he was a friendless loser, and he was ashamed to have him as a son? Sandy couldn't take that distance again, especially not in their current situation.  
  
"Seth Cohen," Seth told the receptionist, his voice husky and unfamiliar to even himself. His arms were still crossed tightly, and he only glanced at his father briefly when he came up behind him, before focusing his gaze back on the receptionist.  
  
Seth was quickly led to his room, a spacious, brightly painted room, with a TV in the corner and a large vase of flowers on the long counter by the window. Sandy thought it had to be the most depressing thing he'd ever seen.  
  
"Ugh, look at the crap they have me wearing," Seth muttered in disgust, holding up the blue pajamas and robe they'd set on his bed. "Summer'll flip when she sees these." He gave his father a tired half-grin.  
  
Sandy snickered. The hospital clothes weren't all that bad, but he knew with Summer's astute eye for fashion, she'd absolutely detest the plain, semi-drab, ensemble.  
  
Seth changed quickly, while Sandy examined the small closet in the room. One of his compulsive habits was to organize things in difficult situations. Maybe once they'd sorted out where everything would go, he could breathe easily. He really wasn't lying when he'd told Seth he couldn't breathe an easy breath without knowing he was okay.  
  
Seth's blue duffel bag was stuffed to the brim with books, CDs, novelty items, graphic novels, and hats. No regular clothes, just hats. Sandy took a stack of books and arranged them neatly on the shelf in the closet.  
  
"Any of these you want to keep by your bed?" Sandy asked, not turning around in case Seth was still changing.  
  
"Yeah. The Michael Moore book....and "Desolation Angels," Seth replied, fiddling with the drawstring on his pajama pants. "Okay, I'm decent." He paused. "Bring some comics too, huh?"  
  
"Which ones?"  
  
"Eh, surprise me."  
  
"CDs?" Sandy asked. He grabbed Seth's portable CD player out of the bag and set it on the night stand.  
  
"Any Bright Eyes, Death Cab, Ray Romano: Live, uh....The White Octave ....that's about it for now. The rest you can shove into the closet."  
  
"All right." Sandy set to work, arranging everything neatly. He paused when he took out a beanie copter hat, most likely thrown in as a joke, but he couldn't even bring himself to smile. Hats were still signs to him that said "Everything's changing."  
  
When he was done, Sandy smiled slightly, feeling a little better now that everything was in order. He turned to find Seth staring intently at the bed. His face fell. He knew it had to be a big step, getting in that bed, knowing he'd be stuck there for an indefinite amount of time.  
  
Seth glanced up at his father, and then looked away quickly. "This is it," he said quietly.  
  
"Guess so," Sandy replied, shuffling his weight from foot to foot nervously.  
  
"Well..." Seth trailed off. He pulled back the sheets a little and slid into the hospital bed. Instantly, a look passed over his face: a mixture of fear, relief, confusion, and anger. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it flickered away, replaced with a blank stare. He tugged the blankets over himself.  
  
Sandy settled into the chair next to Seth's bed, sensing his son's discomfort, and perhaps even shame. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes.  
  
"So...what do we do now?" Seth asked softly. He cleared his throat. "I mean, uh, it's noon so there's really nothing on, unless this thing gets cable, 'cause sometimes they play "Growing Pains" on Fox Family. That's like one of the greatest shows ever, despite the major dorkiness of Alan Thicke. And I can overlook the fact that they had Leonardo DiCaprio on it briefly, because back then he seemed to have some talent. Does this thing get cable?" He gestured toward the television, as he went through the motions of babbling crazily.  
  
"Caleb put in a few calls to the hospital recently, so this sucker probably gets cable..and you probably have a personal masseuse and a private hot tub," Sandy replied. He rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "But, if nothing's on, I brought a deck of cards. We could play poker or something."  
  
Seth nodded. "I do enjoy the World Series of Poker. There's this dude, Chris Moneymaker. Can you imagine if your last name was Moneymaker? That'd have to be like a sign from above that you were meant to be rich. Unless, it's like, their idea of a joke and a Moneymaker ends up being a hobo or something. That'd be like-"  
  
"You don't have to do this," Sandy cut in. He saw in Seth's eyes that the more he talked, the more painful it became.  
  
"Okay. Let's just play cards then," Seth said, in practically a whisper.  
  
They played a few hands, not keeping track of who won and lost, and not saying too much, each one wondering what they could say.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
Seth finally broke the silence a few hands later.  
  
"Yeah, Seth?"  
  
Seth cleared his throat. "Do..do you think things'll work out?" He bit his lip. "Because..'cause I saw you crying and umm..it just, I guess it scared me a little. I-I wasn't going to say anything..but I dunno..I kinda need to know."  
  
"Oh, Seth." Sandy closed his eyes. He reached out and grasped Seth's forearm. His eyes opened a second later, and the older man sighed. "Seth, I think that things will work out. I'm scared though, and I'm sorry that I scared you. You have to understand that we all need some time to deal with this. Just because I cried doesn't mean I don't believe you can beat this. I trust God on this one."  
  
"Okay." Seth nodded slightly.  
  
"I'm glad you talked to me about this, though," Sandy admitted.  
  
Seth nodded again.  
  
"Look, will you be okay for a few minutes? I didn't really eat breakfast this morning, and I was thinking of going down and grabbing a donut." Sandy ran a hand through his hair.  
  
"Sure thing, Pops. I think I'll catch a few z's anyway. I need to be rested and refreshed for my visitors later." Seth threw his father a crooked smile, and fluffed his pillows delicately. "See ya in a few."  
  
"Yeah. In a few." Sandy bent down hesitantly, and kissed Seth's temple tenderly. "I know you hate it, but I need to sometimes, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Seth agreed, closing his eyes, preparing for sleep. "I understand."  
  
end of chapter 


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for such a long wait, but I've had some personal issues going on, as well as a computer virus that wiped out my computer for awhile.  
  
Standard disclaimers apply. Oh, and Hilfold University doesn't exist.  
  
Chapter 11  
  
"Hey, Seth." Sandy shook Seth awake gently. "Seth, you have some visitors." He turned back to face said visitors and grinned. "When this boy naps, he really naps."  
  
Seth's eyes fluttered open and he yawned. He swallowed heavily and sat up a little as his father left his bedside perch.  
  
"Hey, what's up?" he inquired, eyes half-shut. "Ryan. Anna. Mommy." He cracked a tiny smile. "Have you come to shower me with love and adoration?"  
  
"Something along those lines," Anna responded dryly, arching a thin eyebrow. She strode quickly to Seth's bedside and enveloped him in a hug. "Cohen," she whispered, eyes squeezing shut.  
  
Seth returned the embrace, his face scrunched and weary. A happy sigh escaped his lips and his face relaxed as he deepened the hug.  
  
Anna pulled back slightly and kissed his cheek, her chin trembling slightly.  
  
"Watermelon?" Seth asked, tracing his fingers over the lip gloss smear Anna had left.  
  
"Strawberry," Anna corrected, smiling.  
  
Sandy cleared his throat. "Uh, I think I'm going to run down to the cafeteria and grab some food. Anyone want me to get them something?"  
  
"I'm fine, thanks," Anna responded.  
  
"Ryan?"  
  
Ryan shook his head, then remembered the New Years Resolution Seth had bestowed upon him that year: talk more. "Uh, no thanks, Mr. Cohen."  
  
"Why don't I come with you, Sandy?" Kirsten asked. "I haven't eaten all day."  
  
"All right then. We'll be back in a little while." Sandy made eye contact with each of the teens before taking Kirsten's hand. "Don't play with the medical equipment."  
  
"I think we're a little old for that," Ryan said, snickering.  
  
"I caught Seth blowing up the medical gloves and floating them to the ceiling," Sandy replied, patting Ryan's arm with his free hand. "Age has no correlation with maturity."  
  
"I guess not." Ryan glanced over at Seth.  
  
"So, we're just going to grab a burger or something. Be back before you know it." Sandy waved slightly, and closed the door behind him.  
  
Seth sighed. "Wow, could they be anymore obvious?"  
  
"Giving us kids our time alone gossip about the days events," Anna elaborated. "Parents." She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Damn straight," Seth muttered, looking bemused. "So, hey, how was school for you two?"  
  
Ryan and Anna exchanged an uncomfortable look, the days events still fresh in their minds. Everyone stared and whispered, or looked away, guilty when they saw either of them, knowing they were associated with the emo nerd they'd pushed around, the one who had cancer. Teacher after teacher asked Ryan if he wanted to talk about it, or go see the school therapist, or just take some alone time in the school library. Seth was suddenly the Cause of the School Year, as talk of making cards and sending gifts floated around the hallways, mostly ideas spewing from the mouths of freshmen girls who didn't know the legend of Seth and his piss-filled shoes, only knowing that a fellow student was in need of a pick-me-up. Ryan wondered what Seth would say when he received dozens of cards on pink and sparkly paper.  
  
"So, hey, I mean what happened? Karen Matthews barf in the water fountain again?" Seth's voice broke their contemplative silence. "Any messy break- ups on the quad? Did the entire wrestling team come out of the closet and engage in a huge orgy in the middle of the hallway? Were the librarian and the janitor caught 'getting their freak on,' under the stairway again? Fill me in, comrades, fill me in." Seth folded his hands, satisfied that he hadn't lost that rambling touch.  
  
"Everyone found out.." Ryan told him, averting his eyes. "About this I mean."  
  
"Oh." Seth shrugged. "Well..bound to happen sometime I guess. I'm just glad it's not while I'm still there." He forced a smile. "May I ask how this happened?"  
  
"Marissa..she was upset. No one told her about this..."  
  
"And she engaged in a loud and dramatic confrontation," Seth filled in, crossing his arms.  
  
Ryan nodded weakly.  
  
Seth ran a hand through his hair. "It's okay. I probably should have told her." He paused. "I guess with her I just don't know where I stand." He looked at Ryan. "You're not dating her anymore, so she's no longer my best friend's girl..and we were never friends before that. Is it a breach of etiquette not to inform her?" He looked thoughtful. "What is she in relation to me? I mean, her mother is dating my grandfather...potentially she could be my...hmmm..carry the two...my Aunt Marissa. Am I obligated to inform my Potential Aunt Marissa about new medical developments?"  
  
"How about we talk about something else?" Anna cut in, smiling politely. "You told who you wanted to tell, and that's fine."  
  
"Whatever you say," Seth replied, twiddling his thumbs.  
  
"So, how have you been?" Anna asked, settling herself into a chair by Seth's bed and motioning for the standing Ryan to sit down as well. She'd noticed how hard it was to lure Ryan into accepting the basic comforts of life, like chairs.  
  
"It's pretty crazy here. There's a male nurse named Butch. He brings me jello and sticks a thermometer up my butt every now and then."  
  
"I'll assume you're joking about that part," Anna interjected, looking disgusted.  
  
"Umm..right. There are, thankfully, some female nurses who are super nice and have listened to my whining when Dad got tired of it and made a break for the cafeteria." Seth shrugged his shoulders. "I'm settling, I guess."  
  
"What'd you and Sandy do all day?" Ryan asked, rubbing the toe of his boot against the metal bed frame absently.  
  
"Oh, scads of fun things." Seth snickered. "We played some cards. Talked a little about stuff. Then we discovered a 'Family Ties' marathon and let me tell you, that show is ten pounds of cool in a five pound bag. I mean, the parents are left-wing liberals raising Michael J. Fox, who's a conservative Republican. Oh, the merry hijinks."  
  
"I love that show," Anna gushed. "I used to watch it all the time when I was little. And like, how they never told you what Alex's middle name was."  
  
"And remember when Alex got his little brother that Republican pop-up book." Seth smacked his knee. "Now there's comedy."  
  
Ryan slouched in his chair, a tiny smile playing over his lips, letting their conversation wash over him. He didn't hear most of what they were saying, but the sounds he heard were happy and excited. For the first time in a long time, everything felt okay. Seth and Anna were babbling happily about some show with the kind of passion that burned in the hearts of politicians and the deeply religious, and Ryan was able to sit their and soak it all in without saying a word. They didn't need him to talk or share his emotions, or do anything. He could just sit there and enjoy the company of two friends.  
  
"As God was my witness, I will marry Tina Yothers," Seth proclaimed, his hand over his heart. "Or at least set her up with Ryan."  
  
Anna's cell phone went off, the Batman theme song filling the air.  
  
"Hold that thought, bizarre as it is," Anna said, digging through her purse. She glanced at the cell phone screen. "My dad. I'll take this outside." She practically bounced out of the room.  
  
Seth watched her go, a half-smile on his face. He sighed loudly and turned to Ryan.  
  
"You haven't said much," he commented.  
  
"You always cover me in that department," Ryan replied, grinning. He propped his legs up on the side of Seth's bed.  
  
"Hilarious," Seth mumbled. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.  
  
Ryan stared at the ceiling and sighed a heavy sigh. "So...."  
  
"I don't want to do this," Seth said suddenly, his voice choked.  
  
Ryan's head snapped forward. His mouth opened to say something, but the words didn't come.  
  
Seth's head was bowed and shaking back and forth. His hands were clasped together tightly. He looked about eight years old covered in those blankets, scared and shaking. The pale pallor of his skin only added to the image of a little boy in a world where he didn't belong.  
  
"Wha..what do you mean?" Ryan asked, finally finding his voice.  
  
Seth looked up at him, his eyes red-rimmed and tired. He swallowed. "What..what if I do this..all of this, the chemo and the needles and the pain...what if I do this and lose my hair and barf a lot...what I do it and I still..I still..." Seth turned away, a frustrated grunt escaping his lips. "Still..die?" He threw his hands up in despair. "What if all of this is for nothing and I spend the last months of my life rotting in this stupid bed?"  
  
Ryan wanted to reach out and hug the boy like Anna had, absorbing some of his pain and letting him release the feelings he kept locked up inside of him. But Ryan Atwood was not a hugger, not on his own. He needed help in that department, needed another person to initiate the hug. He couldn't do that. Instead his hand reached out and took Seth's. He squeezed it tightly.  
  
"You can't think like that," Ryan whispered, leaning toward Seth.  
  
"I can't help it," Seth replied, hand limp in Ryan's, but he didn't yank it away. "Life stopped sucking for awhile..now this. It's like God doesn't want me to be happy." He closed his eyes for a few seconds. "I just wanted this year to be normal."  
  
Ryan leaned back slightly, hand still tightly clutching Seth's.  
  
"Now normal wouldn't exactly be your style, would it?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
Seth snickered. "I guess not."  
  
"Things will work out," Ryan said quietly, knowing how lame it sounded.  
  
"I just wish that whatever's gonna happen could just happen. Die or whatever. Months of fighting just to die..I can't do that. I'm not strong enough." A few tears sprung from Seth's eyes and trailed down his cheeks.  
  
"Of course you are," Ryan said. "You're one of the strongest people I've ever met." He paused, wishing words came easier to him. "You dealt with all of the water polo players."  
  
"Hardly," Seth sniffed.  
  
"You ate your mom's cooking for sixteen years," Ryan said, a broad smile capturing his mouth.  
  
Seth chuckled. "Yeah, it takes nerves of steel and amazing stomach muscles to accomplish that feat." He wiped his wet cheeks with his free hand. "Look, I'm okay. Just a minor freak-out."  
  
"You sure?" Ryan asked, eyeing him with concern.  
  
"Yeah, yeah."  
  
Ryan let go of Seth's hand and watched as Seth withdrew a wrinkled pamphlet from under the covers. At first Ryan thought it was his precious map to Tahiti, but this volume was much thinner.  
  
"I guess maybe this kind of started it," Seth admitted, handing it to Ryan.  
  
"What is this?" Ryan asked, wrinkling his brow. "Hilford University?"  
  
"Yeah," Seth's voice broke slightly. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Uh, they have a summer program. I sent in my application about a month ago."  
  
"You want to spend your summer at school?" Ryan asked, surprised.  
  
"Not just any school," Seth replied. "It's about an hour from home, right? And I'd be taking creative writing and art classes, things like that. They even have a class on making graphic novels and the history of them. I'd spend a month or so reading, writing, painting, sketching, creating a kick- ass graphic novel. And I could still hang out with you and everyone else whenever I wanted." He smiled. "I've wanted to do it for a few years now, but I just got up the guts to apply."  
  
Ryan placed the pamphlet on Seth's bed. "You never told me anything about this," he commented. "And you usually tell me everything." He paused. "Usually more than I'd care to know, actually."  
  
Seth looked embarrassed. "Nobody really knows about it. I saved my allowance for two months to cover the application cost and the deposit." He shrugged. "I guess I didn't want anyone to know..like if I didn't get in, it'd be weird. I'd look stupid." His brown eyes burned into Ryan's blue ones. "Ya know?"  
  
"Yeah," Ryan replied nodding. "Yeah, I get it." He licked his lips and ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "When do you find out if you got in?" The green Care Bear lying on the night stand caught his eye, and the tiny plush toy seemed to wink at him. Ryan frowned. Those things always put him a little on edge.  
  
Seth shrugged, twisting the bed sheets and looping them around his fingers. "Awhile. I sent in my application really early so I could get the classes I wanted. About two months, I guess." He released the sheets from his clutches and swallowed heavily. "You know I'm going to be here, getting chemo, on my birthday?"  
  
Ryan bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah, I know." That was one thing Seth hadn't failed to mention.  
  
"That's bad enough," Seth went on, "but if it doesn't go away I can kiss the summer good-bye. The Parental Authority-Free Summer of Graphic Novels will become the Summer of Barf." He shoved the blankets off of his legs with a frustrated sigh. Another tear spilled out of his eye. "If I'm going to die, I just want to do it now. I don't want to hope and make plans for the future and want things and say all of this pain is worth it for the end result if all I'm going to do is die from this."  
  
Ryan took a shuddery breath, trying to calm his nerves. Seth was suddenly voicing his fears, his reluctance, and though Ryan had an inkling beforehand that these feelings had existed, he'd never heard them come out of Seth's mouth. The words he spoke were scared and tired and bitter. Seth was a fighter, yes, but a fighter that didn't want to fight. Why? Ryan wondered, though he knew the answer.  
  
Seth was scared out of his mind. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to hurt people. As self-centered as Seth could be, there was an altruistic heart beating within his chest. He cared about people in the way that few could, with his whole heart. When he started to like you, he put his trust in you, and, in Ryan's case, openly used words like "brother" and phrases like "my best friend." Ryan was sure that Seth was just as worried about leaving Ryan as he was about leaving the world.  
  
"It's going to be fine," Ryan said, his jaw clenched. "I know I can't promise..I mean..." He rubbed his face with both hands. "You just have to remember why you're fighting this."  
  
Seth nodded, taking it all in. His face crumpled slightly. "I'm scared, Ryan...I'm so fucking scared."  
  
"I know," Ryan whispered, expecting to see tears on Seth's face but finding none. He swallowed, thinking of how strong Seth was, how much strength he couldn't find in himself when it was so blatantly obvious to others. "I'm scared too."  
  
The door swung open and Sandy's face popped into view. "You guys decent?" he asked, glancing between the two boys, oblivious to what had just occurred.  
  
"As always," Seth told him wryly.  
  
Sandy smiled and cleared his throat, stepping into the room but one hand still holding the door open.  
  
"Ryan.." his smile was sympathetic.  
  
"Visitor's hours, I know," Ryan supplied, grinning weakly. "It's okay."  
  
"Well, we've got a little while for that, but I think Kirsten wants some alone time with him, okay?" Sandy asked.  
  
"I feel like a zoo animal," Seth mumbled.  
  
"Hush," Sandy ordered.  
  
"All right. I'll come back in and say good night later," Ryan offered, shoving his hands into his back pockets.  
  
"Bring me some human food, please..I beg of you," Seth pleaded. "They've got me on three square meals of puppy chow."  
  
"I'll see what I can do," Ryan replied, thinking how much Seth hid of himself from his parents, and how much he had to trust Ryan to show him. His grin was faint but present.  
  
"C'mon, kiddo. I'll give you the grand tour." Sandy threw his arm around Ryan's shoulders. "They have a kick ass candy machine on the third floor."  
  
"Sandy, don't say kick ass."  
  
Sandy ruffled his hair slightly as they passed Anna who waved them away and sighed into her phone. "Seth is rubbing off on everyone these days, huh?"  
  
"I guess so," Ryan replied, and he lost himself in Sandy's steady chatter.  
  
00000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
Visitor's hours were over. Anna had gone home, followed by Ryan and Kirsten much later on, and only after some severe fussing over Seth.  
  
Seth was lying in bed quietly, waiting for his father to come back so they could exchange their good nights and he could get some sleep. His chemo started the very next day, a fact that he was less than thrilled about, a fact that was eating away at him bit by bit, torturing him.  
  
He grabbed the remote off of the nightstand and flicked on the television that hung in the corner of the room. Maybe that would distract him. He smiled, remembering how Sandy and Ryan had been plotting to set up the Playstation 2, the way their eyes glowed at the thought of making him happy, how the two, both hapless in the art of technology threw around words like "wire do-hickey" and "that thing."  
  
The door to the bathroom opened and his father emerged, clad in sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He yawned and gave a short wave to his son.  
  
"It's getting late. You should probably turn off the TV and get some rest." Sandy sighed. "Why do you get that nice big bed with all the pillows and all I get is this rickety old cot? I'll probably sink through the second I lie down," he whined.  
  
"Oh, so you want a pillow?" Seth asked, amused.  
  
Sandy turned to respond and was met with a soft white bundle of something that smacked him in the face with a loud 'thwock.' Ah, so there was the pillow.  
  
"You little rascal." Sandy shook his head. "I can't believe this is the child I raised." He paused. "I blame it on your mother."  
  
"Very noble of you," Seth replied, rolling his eyes. He turned off the television and put the remote down on the nightstand. "Night Pops," he said as his father approached his side.  
  
"Night, son," Sandy responded, fixing the blankets around Seth and placing a hand on Seth's cheek gently. "I'll see you in the morning."  
  
Sandy crossed the room and hit the light switch, flooding the room in darkness.  
  
00000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
A soft knock on the door motivated Ryan to pull on his night clothes a little quicker. The last thing he wanted was for Kirsten to catch a glimpse of him in the Tony the Tiger boxers Seth had given him as a Chrismakkuh gag gift.  
  
"Come in," he called as he fiddled with the drawstrings on his pajama pants.  
  
Kirsten entered the guest bedroom, looking at the peach colored walls and the ruffled comforter.  
  
"I like what you've done with the place," she commented, nodding her head in approval. She met Ryan's eye.  
  
Ryan shrugged.  
  
"I'll tackle this over the weekend; bring in a more manly color palate." Kirsten's smile was hesitant and nervous.  
  
"You don't have to do that," Ryan replied, shrugging. "It's fine." Kirsten had a lot of things to deal with; making his room more eye pleasing shouldn't have been one of them.  
  
"No, please. It's what I do." Kirsten's posture straightened slightly. "It's fun. I used to decorate Seth's room all the time when he was little, changing the paint color, getting a new bed, wall papering..it was nice." She paused, his lips twitching and turning down a little. "He doesn't let me do anything anymore." The look in her eyes was earnest. "I'd like to help you out here...I mean, that is, if this room is what you want. You don't have to stay here by any means. You're always welcome to stay in the pool house..if that's what you want."  
  
"No..no..I like this. It's-it's good," Ryan insisted, and he wasn't lying. At first, the pool house was what he wanted. It helped him keep his comfortable distance from the Cohens. In his mind he felt like it made him less of a disturbance, sleeping in their backyard, and was a constant reminder that he couldn't get attached to them, that they were not his family. He was an Atwood. But as time went by, and right then, he knew that, like it or not, he was a part of their family. He was attached, and they seemed to care about him, and love him, and want what was best for him. Ryan could no longer deny that, and thought he'd never accept their lavish gifts and offers of help without at least some semblance of a struggle, he'd never doubt their intentions again. Or, he wouldn't doubt them as much.  
  
"Only if you want to," Kirsten reiterated.  
  
"I do," Ryan answered firmly. He cleared his throat. "So..um, I was wondering.."  
  
"You were wondering if you could miss school tomorrow and be with Seth before his chemo?" Kirsten asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"Actually, uh, yeah," Ryan replied, relieved that he didn't have to get all of those words out of his mouth.  
  
"Of course," Kirsten said, gently. "We won't make a habit of this, but Seth would feel more comfortable- and I would too, for that matter- if you were there." She paused. "One day of school won't hurt anything. Besides, I'm sure Summer will play hooky tomorrow too." She grinned a little. "I bet she'll chloroform any doctor who tries to keep her away from Seth."  
  
Ryan saw in her eyes how much Kirsten really liked Summer and how much she liked Summer with Seth. Summer would be glad to hear about it.  
  
"She probably will," Ryan told her softly.  
  
Kirsten squeezed Ryan's forearm gently. "Good night, Ryan."  
  
"Night, Kirsten."  
  
With Kirsten gone, Ryan continued his preparations for bed. He spied a crumpled piece of paper on the floor by the nightstand and bent down to pick it up when something caught his eye.  
  
Sitting on the bureau were some papers Ryan hadn't remembered being there before. Piece of paper forgotten, he went over to investigate.  
  
Hilford University was the letter head, and it took Ryan about three seconds to figure out that it was an application. A check for an amount of money Ryan had never even held in his hand lay atop it. Beside it was the same pamphlet Seth had showed him, though this one was fresh and new. Circled in heavy blank ink under the column 'Fields of Study,' was one word: Architecture.  
  
0000000000000000000000000000  
  
Read and review. Thanks a million for all your wonderful comments.  
  
And if you've never seen it, or even if you have, rent Bowling for Columbine, whatever your political affiliation. 


	12. Chapter 12

Standard disclaimers apply.

Chapter 12

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Kirsten ran her fingers delicately through Seth's curls, mourning the fact that soon they would be no more.

"I'm ready for anything, as long as I've got my new wheels." Seth patted the side of the wheelchair he was occupying. "I'll be hot roding down the hallway in no time." He popped a few wheelies to prove his point.

The wheelchair was the doctor's ordered transportation to and from the chemotherapy room. Seth hadn't been too keen on the idea, but there was little he could do in the face of Nurse Martha, the vaguely scary woman in white who was built like a linebacker.

"Do you think 'Pimp My Ride' does wheelchairs?" Seth glanced at Ryan, probably the only person in the room who had ever even heard of the show.

Ryan shrugged, his eyes darting around the room. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets. The relative calm of everyone else in the room was throwing him off a bit. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he should have just gone to school and given Seth some alone time with his folks.

Sandy poked his head into the room. He motioned to Kirsten.

"Honey, Dr. Pearson wants to see us across the hall for a minute," he said.

"We'll get to see him again before he goes, right?" Kirsten gave Sandy a look that said she was not going across that hall unless the answer he gave her was yes.

"Of course. I made sure of it." Sandy gave her an appeasing smile.

Kirsten exited, patting Seth's hair one more time before she left.

"So...you find the application?" Seth smiled at Ryan and performed a few masterful wheelchair moves in small circles around him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Ryan cleared his throat.

"Now, before you say anything, yes, I know, the money. The application fee is a little steep, but think of it as an early Chrismakkuh gift. Meaning whatever you get me next year needs to be Grade A, because these are my bar mitzvah bucks here. No Ryan Atwood macaroni art." Seth's grin was exuberant. "So, what do you think? Are you in?"

Ryan scuffed the toe of his boot on the tile floor. "A whole summer at school?"

"Six weeks," Seth corrected him. "And there'd be no one to tell us that Slim Jims aren't a part of a balanced breakfast." He paused. "Oh, and I already wrote an essay for you to use."

"I'm sure I could write my own, Seth."

"Dude, no offense, but I've seen your work. You write like you talk." Seth's hands made circles in the air as his words grew more passionate. "You have yet to discover the true magic of the adjective, how it can make a simple sentence come alive."

Ryan stared at him, eyes narrowed.

"Look, stick to what you're good at: chemistry and beating the snot out of water polo players. Not everyone can be as gifted in the art of word manipulation as myself." Seth sighed. "It's a gift. And a curse."

The traces of a smile crept up onto Ryan's lips.

"Then how come the lit magazine refuses to publish your limericks?"

Seth slumped down in his wheelchair, an exaggerated look of despair on his face.

"It was a controversial piece, really. It exposed the darker side of Harbor High. To bring it forth to the masses in the form of a lit magazine might have thrown those hallowed halls into abject chaos." He leaned forward. "Chaos." He glanced over his shoulder furtively. "Plus, all of the faculty members are fascists."

"Ah, so that's it," Ryan said, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Well, that and that all of my limericks sounded vaguely dirty." Seth scratched his ear absently. "But only vaguely, mind you." He bit his lip. "So, hey, you interested in having a Seth/Ryan summer?"

"Sounds cool. I mean, as long as your parents are cool with it." Ryan gave Seth a pointed look. "Will they be?"

"Look, after all of this is over and done with, I'll tell them. Assuming they're willing to let me out of their sight for five minutes, it should be fine." Seth grinned.

Ryan ran a hand through his hair. Seth had been talking in an offhand manner about how he was going to get better, saying 'when this is all over' in casual conversation with his parents. Ryan wondered whether Seth had overcome all of his doubts or it was just another form of Seth reassuring everyone that he was okay.

Ryan was thankful when Sandy and Kirsten reappeared in the room, telling Seth that Dr. Pearson wanted to discuss a few aspects of his treatment, but nothing to be concerned about. He watched the Cohens interact with a tiny smile. They were such a family. They bickered and teased and hugged and slid bits of affection into their everyday conversation. Like the time Sandy told Seth he loved him when Seth grabbed his freshly popped toast and put it on a plate. And Seth had so easily returned the 'I love you,' an amused and good-naturedly exasperated smile on his lips. He shrugged at Ryan as if to say, "He's incredibly embarrassing, goofy and out of his mind, but what are you going to do?" And Ryan was now a part of that. He gave that exact look to the guys when Sandy was the sole fan in the crowd doing The Wave at his soccer games.

Sandy embraced Seth fiercely, closing his eyes as his son's lanky arms wrapped around him. He didn't think they'd shared a longer hug since Seth's bar mitzvah, when Sandy refused to let Seth go for a good five minutes, so proud that his boy was a man.

"You, you...good luck, son." Sandy reluctantly released Seth from his bear hug. He reached out a hand and messed up Seth's curls.

"Thanks Dad." Seth's smile was appreciative and bright. He seemed to be okay.

There was a light rap on the door and Dr. Pearson walked inside without waiting for a reply. Seth had discovered in a short time that privacy was not an option with these doctors.

"Seth, it's time for your chemo," the doctor informed him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"All right." Seth nodded and glanced at each member of his family, giving them comforting smiles.

Kirsten bent down and kissed the top of his head, her hand gently rubbing his back. Leaning in a little closer, she hugged him tight.

"We'll be here," she whispered into his ear, her lips brushing against Seth's dark curls.

"I know," Seth said his voice firm and steady. His eyes went to Ryan as Kirsten stepped away from him. "When I get back we'll figure out how to hook up the PS2, okay?"

"Count on it."

They watched as Dr. Pearson wheeled Seth from the room. He didn't look back once.

Sandy fidgeted in the armchair, wanting to look Dr. Newton in the eye but not mustering up the courage to do so.

It was the first therapy session for Sandy, and he was considering making it his last. He had only done it on an experimental basis anyway. The last time he'd been through any form of therapy was in his sophomore year of high school when some well-meaning neighbor called the school and told them about how Sandy was overstressed with all the chores he had to do when Sophie Cohen was working, which was often. He'd been forced into a weekly session with his guidance counselor, where he had to tell Mr. Jacobs all of his daily activities in great detail. It hadn't been fun or even helpful then. Sandy hoped this would be different.

"How does this feel for you, Sandy?" Dr. Newton asked, stroking his chin in the way Sandy figured only shrinks were allowed to do.

Sandy wrung his hands together. "Nobody wants to outlive their kid." He rubbed his eyes. "When Seth was little he got sick all the time. Fevers every week, coughing, stuff like that. And every minor thing used to throw me into a panic. I was terrified that I would..would mess something up and he'd be.." he trailed off and swallowed. "Gone."

"That's quite understandable. Seth was your only child for sixteen years, correct?"

Sandy nodded, plucking non-existent fuzz from the knee of his jeans. "We've been fairly overprotective of him." He flicked at his jeans with great vigor. "When he started getting bullied at school I wanted to move back to Berkeley." His eyes were transfixed on a clump of purple string embedded in the carpet. He didn't know why he'd even mentioned Berkeley.

"What do you think is going to happen to Seth? What are you afraid of?" Dr. Newton shifted his legal pad higher up on his thigh and scribbled a few notes on the yellow paper.

"Afraid of?" Sandy paused, rocking back and forth on the edge of the chair, looking thoughtful. "Everything, I guess."

Meanwhile, Kirsten and Ryan were eating a hearty lunch in the hospital cafeteria. Ryan chose a cheeseburger while Kirsten went for the egg salad. Both opted for a Pepsi.

"I always get the cheeseburger," Ryan said, studying his food with a frown.

"What do you mean?" Kirsten placed her sandwich on her tray momentarily and leaned forward. "Always?"

"When I'm at a hospital," Ryan answered, his head bent low over the table. "As a patient or a visitor." He swallowed. "Sometimes when my mom drank too much and passed out she hit her head. Sometimes Trey got bored and picked fights with guys three times the size of him."

"And you?" Kirsten wasn't used to Ryan being so open about his past and she wanted to soak up every word.

"Sometimes I rode my bike too fast," he replied, the tiniest of smiles on his face. "One time right after I learned to ride I jumped a ramp and broke my arm." He shook his head. "I just wanted to prove to everyone that I was tough."

"Seth did that once when some of the guys were picking on him." Kirsten sipped her Pepsi. "He decided that everyone would like him if he could do some move or other on his skateboard. He was practicing it in the driveway and shattered his wrist." She shook her head. "Imagine coming home to find that on your doorstop. Sandy nearly had a heart attack." She paused. "I was calm. I'd seen my share of medical disasters with Hailey." She bit back a large grin. "She was a bike rider too, and not a very good one."

"I got better," Ryan offered, picking up his cheeseburger. "Haven't damaged anything in awhile."

They pair ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Ryan?"

"Hmm?"

"Why the cheeseburger?"

"Chino hospital food was not exactly five star cuisine. A cheeseburger was the one thing they couldn't totally destroy."

"Ah."

"His name is Frank," Seth announced, hugging the metal bucket to his chest. He was lying somewhat upright on his bed, fighting to stay alert enough to keep up a conversation with Ryan.

Ryan smiled a little. Only Seth would think of naming his barf bucket. Next week he'd probably call it Merle or something.

"Like the Donnie Darko bunny," Seth added. "I was Frank for Halloween once. Nobody had any idea who the hell I was supposed to be. It was funny. Everyone thought I just randomly decided to be some fucked up bunny rabbit."

Ryan, who'd seen the movie at least four times per Seth's insistence couldn't resist a chuckle at the image of Seth clad in a bunny suit, even if it was a scary-looking bunny.

"I walked around to everyone I saw and said 'Why are you wearing that stupid human suit?'" Seth sighed. "The things I did for attention." He yawned. "God, chemo's a bitch."

"Sorry," Ryan offered, not sure what kind of advice he could give Seth, having never been where he was.

Seth shrugged. "I've thrown up at least five times since they took me into their torture chamber." He shuddered. "Bodily functions are no longer funny." A groan escaped his lips. "I recommend you never partake in a chest catheter."

Ryan frowned and bit his lip. Seth looked like hell.

"Anyway, now I start my whole, relaxation period. No more big scary needles or anything." Seth yawned.

"You want me to leave or anything? You sound pretty beat." Ryan rubbed his thumb back and forth over one of the many metal bars attached to Seth's bed.

"Nah." Seth frowned. "Stay for awhile, if it's okay. I might fall asleep on you though." He ran a hand through his dark curls. "I'm going to have to work on that one. It's rude to fall asleep in front of guests. Mom always told me that. Well, she also claimed that the Newpsies were nice ladies, so she's definitely a vicious liar."

Ryan smiled and bit his lip. His eyes squinted slightly the corners of them wrinkling as he thought of the many misadventures of Kirsten and the Newspies as told by Seth Cohen.

"So Summer called. She can't make it today or anything, but we talked for awhile." Seth licked his lips. "She's decided that I'll still have a bangalicious bod and unmatched sex appeal, hair or no hair."

Ryan wrinkled his nose, disgusted at the image that was popping into his head. Sometimes it would be nicer if Seth didn't give him every sordid little detail of his many sexual escapades.

"You have any soccer games coming up?" Seth placed Frank on his nightstand, hoping that the move would delay any future barfing.

"Tomorrow," Ryan replied. "But I mean, I don't have to go to it."

Seth tried to sit up, thought better of it and flopped downward, his head crashing into his pillow and making the mattress jump a little.

"No way, dude. You have to play and you have to bring my parents. We're all getting cabin fever in here, but at least you guys can leave. Take advantage of it. Run around and chase a black and white sphere. You'll look like a ninny but you'll be getting your natural high." Seth sighed heavily, tired out from the energy it took to speak.

"All right." Ryan punched Seth's shoulder lightly. "And who are you calling a ninny? I don't sleep on Spiderman sheets."

"Touche." Seth arched an eyebrow. A sudden change passed over his face, an almost tangible aura of despair surrounding him. "I need Frank," he groaned, hands grabbing desperately for his bucket.

The bucket was under his mouth at the exact moment that Seth's insides successfully completed its revolt. His didn't understand why his stomach was suddenly turning on him. He thought he'd had a pretty stable relationship with it over the years. Never put it through hours of crunches or hard labor. He fed it only the finest of junk foods. Basically, he was his tummy's bitch, and how easily it turned on him.

Seth felt a warm hand on the back of his neck and he smiled into Frank until the next vicious wave of nausea hit his body and he erupted yet again.

"It's gonna be okay, Seth. Just let it happen. You'll be okay." Tears pricked in Ryan's eyes as he ran his hand down the back of Seth's head. It wasn't so much that Seth was getting sick, or that it would be that way for an indefinite amount of time. It was that he, Ryan Atwood, had no idea what to do. Comfort only ran so far.

Seth sat up straighter. "I'm done," he announced, his eyes watery, his face sweaty. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Stomach cramping. Head light. Very dizzy."

"Nice to see your commentary skills haven't been affected in any way."

Ryan smiled sadly as he pressed the call button. Someone needed to take care of Seth's food deposit and it sure as hell wasn't going to be him.

"Gab, it's a gift."

Both boys added simultaneously.

"And a curse."

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Seth stared at the ceiling, his eyes slowly glazing over. He was practicing keeping his mind empty as Death Cab for Cutie blasted into his ears. He wasn't sure on the electronics policy in the hospital but he was not going to give up both his hair and his iPod. That just wouldn't do.

He'd sent everyone else home an hour earlier, insisting that he didn't need any of them to sleepover again. He was a big boy.

This, however, did not explain why he was scared out of his fucking mind, in his dark hospital room with a coat rack that looked like the vicious spider demon ready to pounce and a constantly churning stomach.

Seth closed his eyes. He did not want his mommy. He did not want his mommy. He did not want his mommy.

Oh, hell, who was he kidding? He wanted all of them.

Seth sighed and cranked up the volume on his iPod, ready and willing to succumb to sleep.

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"Could you pass the potatoes please?" Kirsten dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin and took a sip of water. She accepted the bowl from Ryan and scooped a generous amount of mashed potatoes onto her plate.

The table was silent. The table had in fact been silent for the entire meal, until Kirsten put in her quiet request for the mashed potatoes.

Ryan kept his head bent low over his plate, though his eyes peered up through his bangs and scrutinized each Cohen carefully. He counted the number of times Sandy coughed into his napkin, scratched his head, pulled his chair in a little closer. He watched Kirsten's eyes as she stared at her glass of Sprite. He knew what she was thinking of, and he bit his lip to keep from screaming. He watched Kirsten playing with her fork, playing with her food, doing everything with her mashed potatoes except eat them.

Dinnertime was Seth/everyone time. He got everyone talking, and if he couldn't, if everyone was in a sour mood, then he filled the family in on his day between bites and sips and slurps. He was relentless in his speech, talking until every last plate was clean. The silence, which was a welcoming treat when Seth was studying at Summer's house and decided to stay for dinner was now somber and stiff.

Sandy chewed slowly, wondering when dinner would end, when he could slip upstairs and throw himself onto his bed. There he could black out until morning (when he figures he'll find out everything's the same).

Nobody knew quite what to say.

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Two weeks into chemo, Seth's curls began their journey from his head. It was a gradual process. One day Seth woke up to find a few curls scattered around his head, the dark brown color in stark contrast to the white pillowcase. The next day there were a few more. Pretty soon, he figured, he'd be another pathetic bald white guy.

Sandy crept into Seth's room, knowing his son would be sleeping. That was all he ever seemed to do anymore. Well, that and throw up.

Sandy was surprised at how well he himself had been keeping it together. He still managed to go to Ryan's soccer games, still managed to cheer louder than all of the other parents combined. He pretended that he didn't notice Kirsten diving into the vodka every morning. He pretended that he didn't notice Ryan noticing Kirsten diving into the vodka every morning. He didn't know what to tell him. Kirsten was a good woman; she just needed time to cope, Sandy figured. Everyone did.

Perching himself on the edge of Seth's bed, Sandy ran his hand gently over Seth's almost bald head. He closed his eyes and sighed, reminding himself that things would get better soon.

Seeing Seth's bed was a little bigger than he'd estimated, Sandy scooted a little closer, bringing both of his tired legs up and giving them a much needed stretch as he lay them on the bed. He opened the file in his hand, figuring he'd get a little work done while he stayed with Seth.

Everyone had been in and out of Seth's room, coming when they could and leaving, always expressing regrets as they walked out the door. Sometimes they only got to talk to him for a few minutes before he dropped off to sleep, sometimes longer. Sandy hoped this would be one of the longer visits; he needed to hear his son speak, a tiny blessing that had taken a therapeutic effect on him.

Seth stirred a little and his eyes opened, just slits, but they were open all right. He peered up at his father, but the fact that he was there and his dad didn't quite register. His brain was too fuzzy to comprehend such small facts.

"Hey Seth." Sandy rubbed Seth's shoulder.

"Mmmff," Seth groaned, his eyes falling shut.

Sandy frowned, wishing he could talk with his son, but knowing he couldn't force Seth to have a conversation.

"Mmmff," Seth groaned again and one long arm plopped across Sandy's legs. With a considerable grunt, Seth lifted his head and laid it on Sandy's chest, pulling his father closer to him. "Hmmmmm," he sighed, and promptly fell asleep.

His hand stroking Seth's mostly bald head, Sandy began to realize that some things were more therapeutic than hearing Seth's voice.

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Ryan sat at the kitchen table working dutifully on his pre-calc assignment, glancing over his shoulder ever now and then to check on Kirsten. She was having a rough time of things and Ryan didn't know what to do about it. It was easier to handle Dawn, who was an obvious drunk. Ryan played the parent for her and Dawn didn't put up a fuss. But Kirsten wasn't constantly drunk, and she wasn't the kind of wild drunk who wound up having a different man in her bedroom every night. She was sad when she drank too much, at least when she was drinking because of Seth. She'd sit by the pool and cry, or sit in the kitchen in cry, or sometimes she'd just sit and not cry. Those were the times that she frightened Ryan the most. She could sit for hours without saying a word, without moving.

Now, however, she was sober, a fact Ryan knew for certain. She was sitting at the island, cursing under her breath as she worked on some of the financial figures Caleb had brought over earlier that day.

Her fist suddenly smacking the island made Ryan jump out of his chair. Taking two deep breaths, he returned to his books. She wasn't Dawn. He didn't know what to do.

"I-I'm sorry Ryan." Kirsten put down her pencil as Ryan turned to face her. "It's been hard for me. For all of us. I just..."

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

"I'll get it," Kirsten said, quickly standing up.

"No. No, let me." Ryan held up a hand. "You keep working." He paused, giving Kirsten one of his finest aw shucks smiles. "I need a break from this stuff," he said, gesturing to the book laid out before him.

Kirsten nodded, picked up her pen and bent over her work yet again.

Ryan shook his head as he reached for the doorknob. Whoever it was, they had horrible timing.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he saw who stood on the doorstep.

The girl lunged at him, throwing her skinny arms around his neck. She buried her head into his neck, sobbing violently.

"I'm so sorry," Marissa gasped, pulling him closer to her. "Seth is sick and I just got mad." She sniffled. "Now Summer won't talk to me. I don't have anyone anymore." Her voice broke. "You have to forgive me. I didn't mean to explode like that..I was scared..."

Her hair smelled like apples.

"It's okay," Ryan assured her softly, though he really didn't think it was. He returned Marissa's embrace, his arms hugging her waist tightly, though his heart wasn't in it. "I forgive you," he told her, pulling back slightly and wiping a tear from her cheek."

"I love you so much," Marissa sobbed, laying her head against Ryan's chest.

Ryan swallowed, thinking about how nice it was to have someone, how easy it would be to have someone.

"Why don't you come inside?" he asked, ushering her through the door.

Someone was better than no one, no matter who that someone was.

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feedback appreciated. thanks.


	13. Chapter 13

I am so sorry. I'd say there are no excuses, but honestly, there are so many. I just started my junior year in high school, I'm the Vice President of my Class, am currently founding a club, run cross country, just started my foray into the working world earning $7.50 and hour, play in a weekend softball league, take all honors and AP classes, President of the Volunteer Club, and head writer of my school's yearbook. Plus, I either have mono or a really nasty case of the flu. So I'm suffering..have pity...

I truly apologize. And there will be long periods of time between updates, which sucks, but I have no free time as it is.

Anyway, standard disclaimers apply, I'll shut up now, and here goes:

Chapter

"Ryan Atwood."

Snapped out of his math test trance, Ryan glanced up from his paper. His teacher, Ms. Jenkins was holding out a blue pass and peering at him over her glasses.

Ryan cleared his throat. "Uh, yes?" He scratched his arm absently.

"You're wanted at the office. Now." Her voice was firm and direct.

Throwing random books and papers into his backpack, Ryan approached Ms. Jenkins' desk. He dropped his test in front of her and grabbed the pass.

"I was uh, almost done anyway." Ryan bit his lip. "Uh, thanks."

Ryan nearly bolted out the door, aware that the eyes of everyone in the class were on him. He scrutinized the pass carefully, looking for some kind of clue. The looming question was: Is something wrong?

Phones made him nervous. So did doorbells and mysterious passes to the office. It was through a pass to the office that he found out that his dad was in jail. That was a day he'd always remember, shuffling into the principal's office to come face to face with a sobbing Dawn.

"You're fucking father's in jail," were her exact words between gasps for air. And then, harsh, "Let's go."

And that had been that. No sugar coating whatsoever. Someone had to find her cigarettes.

Hand on the doorknob to Dr. Kim's office, Ryan closed his eyes to fight off the mental picture of a tearful Kirsten or Sandy sitting beyond, armed with knowledge he didn't want.

What he saw instead was Mr. Gundy, the ever-chipper guidance counselor with a rare smile on his face, a frazzled Dr. Kim, and one pissed off Summer Roberts.

Ryan's mouth hung open. No words came to him. Of all the scenarios he could have come up with, this was definitely not one of them.

"They finally fucking found you Chino?" Summer spat, wiping tears from her eyes. She turned to Mr. Gundy. "How fucking hard was that, huh? Huh?"

Dr. Kim stared over the scene and caught Ryan's eye.

"Ms. Roberts will not explain her actions to myself or Mr. Gundy," she said, her perfect posture not hiding her unease. "She has demanded to speak with Chino."

"Alone," Summer cut in. "I want to talk to Chino alone."

"Summer," Mr. Gundy began, his voice soothing and gentle. He leaned toward her and touched her arm. "Summer, why don't we talk about Seth. I know this has been hard for you.."

"Hands off, perv." Summer smacked his hand. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Ms. Roberts, may I suggest you tone down the attitude right now? Disrespectful language is not tolerated here at Harbor."

"Uh, I can talk to her," Ryan blurted out. "I mean, it's fine. I can uh, handle it."

"Thanks Chino." Summer sniffed. "But don't say handled like I'm Marissa or something. I'm no dependent."

Mr. Gundy stood up, grabbing his legal pad from Dr. Kim's desk.

"Why don't we give them some privacy?" he suggested. "There's a lot that needs to be worked out. Seth is a wonderful kid."

"Not that you know him," Summer muttered. "Not that anyone does."

Dr. Kim shot her a warning look, before following Dr. Gundy out of the office.

"Five minutes," she said over her shoulder. "And this will not happen again."

Summer looked up at Ryan, her chin trembling. Tears spilled from down her cheeks, but she stared directly into Ryan's eyes, her gaze unwavering.

"I don't give a shit about Derek Johnson."

Ryan shuffled forward carefully, dropping himself into the chair beside Summer.

"Who's Derek Johnson?" It was an inquiry as good as any other, Ryan figured. Nothing about what was happening made sense. Summer Roberts did not cry, at least not to his knowledge.

"Fucking new kid," Summer spat, crossing her arms across her chest and sinking lower in her chair. "Porter's such a douche. Giving him Cohen's desk like he's never coming back. Well he's coming back, Chino." She bent over slightly, a few more tears escaping her eyes. "They never think about him. He's a second of their conversation and suddenly it's like hey, remember Cotillion, and hey, this guy screwed two girls at once."

They sat in silence for a few moments, each pondering her words.

"You never stop thinking about him do you?" Ryan asked finally, scratching the back of his head.

"Constantly," Summer sighed. "And then I try not to, and then I do anyway, and then I feel bad for even trying not to think about him." Summer threw her hands up in despair. "And what the hell am I supposed to do when they try and give up his desk?"

"Let everyone know he's still around, apparently," Ryan replied, a tiny smile crossing his lips.

Summer snickered, her whole body shuddering forward. "Knocking over desks and rage blackouts aren't exactly the Welcome Wagon this Derek kid was expecting."

"Welcome to the O.C., bitch," Ryan sighed, leaning back.

Summer pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes.

"God, I can't let him go," she sobbed, diving into Ryan's arms. "He can't die..."

Ryan closed his arms around Summer, familiar with the embrace. Same hug, different person. He couldn't hold them up anymore. He couldn't keep them happy when he was ready to crack. He couldn't be that person.

But he held her tight and let her cry because that was what she needed and he could give it to her.

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Without waiting for a reply, Sandy walked into Kirsten's office. They had plans for a quick lunch before going to the hospital. They were both working half-days to spend more time with Seth.

"Hey sweetie."

As soon as Kirsten looked up, Sandy knew something had happened. There was a subtle change in her eyes, a sadness that no one who didn't know her like Sandy could place.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, touching her arm gently.

Kirsten looked away without replying. She bit her lip.

"There was an incident.."

"An incident? Is Seth okay? Did something happen?" Sandy ran a hand through his hair. "How come nobody called?"

"Sandy, calm down." Kirsten put her hands on his chest. "It's nothing like that."

"Good." Sandy clutched his chest, breathing heavily. "I have got to stop jumping to conclusions." He paused. "What happened?"

Kirsten sat down again. "I had some kind of.." she waved her hands in the air, "breakdown in the mall today." She crossed her arms. "I feel so stupid."

Sandy came up behind her and threw his arms around Kirsten. He planted a tender kiss on her cheek.

"I love you. You're not stupid. Now care to elaborate?" He nibbled her ear gently.

Kirsten sighed and leaned back into Sandy's arms. He shifted his body so his chin rested on top of her head.

"Hallmark; I swear, that place makes me crazy." Kirsten sniffed, feeling leftover tears climb into her eyes. She squeezed Sandy's arm for support and closed her eyes. "I was shopping for Seth's birthday gifts and went in looking for a card."

"What'd you get him this year?" Sandy asked lightly, trying to ease her burden by keeping things like.

"Hideously depressing CDs, some gift certificates, all of his requested DVDs and video games. Run of the mill birthday stuff." Kirsten inhaled deeply, allowing Sandy's cologne provide its familiarity and comfort. "Anyway, I was picking through all of those sappy birthday cards looking for something decent, when the uh, the grief section caught my eye."  
  
"Oh, God. Kirsten." Sandy buried his face deeper into her neck. "God, I love you so much."

"They said everything I was afraid of," Kirsten choked. "How hard it was..to lose a child....I just..."

"I know. I know." Sandy sighed into her.

"I-I did end up getting this." Kirsten smiled weakly as she grabbed the birthday card off of her desk.

Sandy loosened his hold on her and grabbed the card. He smiled into her hair.

"Hey...Snoopy."

"Ryan," Kirsten corrected. "It's Ryan." She smiled. "We're going to be okay, Sandy, aren't we? This is all gonna end, and we're going to be okay?"

Sandy kissed the top of her head. "Of course. Everything will turn out just fine. You'll see."

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"Mom?"

"No..uh, it's Luke."

"Oh..mmmff.."

With a valiant effort, Seth managed to open his eyes and sit up. He groaned, and caught sight of Luke standing in the doorway, looking unsure of himself.

"Hey man. Uh, sorry for calling you my mom and all that."

Luke held up his hands. "Dude, yo, no problem. None at all. It's okay."

Seth arched an eyebrow. "Uh, okay." He ran a hand over his now completely bald head. "So what's going on?"

Luke leaned against the wall and tried to look nonchalant. "Not much. Just decided to come by, see how you were doing."

"Oh." Seth bit his lip. "Well, to be honest, and for once I will be, I'm not doing so hot."

"Sorry man," Luke mumbled, staring at his shoes.

Seth sighed and glanced at the ceiling. Where was everyone else? He didn't like being alone with Luke. He eyed his former tormentor warily. The silence was practically unbearable.

"I used to think about cancer a lot," Seth said quietly.

Luke didn't meet his eye.

"Thought about cancer and car accidents and fires and a thousand ways to go so people would finally stop." Seth swallowed thickly. "You know, if I died, or just got really sick or really hurt, I figured maybe people would realize what they took for granted and feel like shit. Shoe's on the other foot kind of effect. You were good at making me feel like shit."

"Look, I'm sorry.."

"I'm not done," Seth whispered. "My life was miserable. I thought that maybe if I got sick people would feel bad and want to hang out with me. And then I'd get better and we could all live happily after and never have to eat lunch in the stairway again." He laughed bitterly. "Guess that sickness came a little too late. Life was finally starting to not suck, and look what happens."

Luke licked his lips. "Seth, man.."

"It's fine," Seth cut in. "I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty, though that's an added benefit. I'm telling you because I can't tell anybody else." He paused, giving him an appraising glance. "I don't feel the need to protect you from this. So I'll give you the bottom line: I'm pissed, I'm tired, I threw up eight times today alone. The food sucks, the needles suck, the TV is on the fritz again. I can hardly get out of bed, and every single part of my body hurts like a bitch."

Luke didn't know what to say. Sorry sounded so pathetic, so wrong. He couldn't say that he didn't deserve Seth's anger, because he certainly did.

"Now, sit down. Tell me what's going at school." Seth gestured to the chair by his bed.

Luke didn't move.

"We're cool, okay? I don't hate you or whatever." Seth exhaled a deep breath. "For what it's worth, I'm kind of glad you're hear. I could use some pointless conversation right now."

"That's what I'm here for," Luke replied, giving him a nervous grin. "So, we're cool?"

"Yeah. We're fine."

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"So, maybe you could bring some of Seth's favorite music?"

Ryan looked up from his meat loaf. "Yeah..sure."

"Just a small gathering." The enthusiasm in Kirsten's voice was painfully fake. "You can have Marissa come if you want."

Ryan shrugged. He didn't want to think about Marissa. She'd called an hour earlier, wanting to chat about how mean Julie was and how hard Ms. Klein's class had gotten. He'd made some excuse not to talk. He was sorry he'd let her back in his life so soon.

Summer was pissed at him for it too. After school they strolled on the boardwalk eating Balboa bars, and Marissa was one of the many topics Summer groused about. Needless to say, the best friends hadn't made up yet, and, if Summer's tirade was any indication, the end of the feud was nowhere in sight. Ryan wasn't about to comment. He admired Summer's resolve, and wished he had a bit of it himself. Marissa was his drug, and even when she took his pain away she was torturing him.

"Your father called," Sandy told Kirsten. "He's pulling out all the stops for this shindig." He smiled slightly. It was clear that a tentative alliance had formed between Sandy and Caleb.

"Good," Kirsten replied, smiling as she took a healthy bite of roast beef. "I want this to be really nice for him." She sighed, a gloomy expression casting over his face.

Sandy reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "It'll be wonderful, sweetheart."

The phone rang, interrupting their pathetic attempt at a conversation.

"I'll get it," Ryan offered, jumping up.

"Did Seth drop any hints about anything this year?" Sandy asked Kirsten, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "Last year he nearly burst into hysterics when he didn't get that flame thrower."

"He hasn't said a word about his birthday to me," Kirsten admitted, shaking her head.

Sighing, Sandy bent over his plate. He feared Seth's upcoming birthday would depress him. Birthdays ranked only slightly below Chrismakkuh on the holiday scale. Birthdays were twenty-four hour celebrations with party hats, noise makers and a giant piñata. Every year, even the year Seth was on crutches, birthdays began at 6AM, with Seth jumping up and down on his parents' bed, yelling at them to wake up.

"Sandy, it's Seth's doctor." Ryan held the phone over to him, looking concerned. "He wants to talk to you."

Clearing his throat and wiping his mouth with his napkin, Sandy stood up. His heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed the phone.

"Hello."

Ryan slumped into his chair, trying not to listen in on Sandy's side of the conversation, but failing miserably.

"Don't fall away from us now." Kirsten's voice was so quiet Ryan couldn't be sure she'd actually said anything.

But he looked at her and knew.

Sandy settled back into his chair, his face grave.

"Uh, yeah, that was Dr. Pearson. He said Seth's having some adverse side effects to some of the medication they have him on. He wants us to come in tomorrow morning and discuss alternate treatments, or just putting him on more medication to counter the effects of the other stuff." Sandy swallowed and clenched his jaw.

"What kind of side effects?" Kirsten asked quietly, placing her fork on her plate without a sound.

"He's been uh, vomiting up some blood. He's got some tremors too." Sandy stood up. "I, uh, told Dr. Pearson I'd be coming in tonight to see him. I just don't think he should be alone right now." He paused. "It's kind of late though. You don't have to go if you don't want to."

Kirsten nodded, trying to keep her composure.

"Are you going to stay the night?" she asked, looking up at Sandy.

Sandy considered it, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, probably. Depends on what he wants, I guess."

"I'll go with you," Kirsten said quietly, mustering up her courage. She could do this.

"Ryan?" Sandy asked, glancing at his foster son. "I know it's a school night, but we can make an exception just this once if you want to stop by for awhile."

Pushing his bangs out of his eyes, Ryan shook his head.

"I don't think so," he told him. "I have uh, homework."

Sandy nodded and looked puzzled. He squeezed Ryan's shoulder.

"I'll call when we get there. Maybe you can talk to Seth."

"Okay."

Ryan watched them get up and go, watched them and wished he'd said yes. But somehow he couldn't. Seth was his best friend, but Ryan just couldn't see him right then. What he needed was a cigarette. He didn't think he could last another minute without one.

Grabbing his jacket, Ryan headed for the door.


	14. Chapter 14

Seth wanted to hide under the covers and disappear.

When he was eight years old, his parents had sent him to sleep-away camp. Everything that had looked exciting in the brochure- bunk beds, campfires, swimming in a pond- lost its appeal within three days and Counselor Rick had to call his parents to take him home. On the long ride back to Newport he'd curled up in the backseat of the car, head resting on his mother's lap, his father singing softly in the front.

And Seth was eight again, ashamed of his weakness but desperate for their comfort, for a hand run through his now-missing hair or reassuring words he wouldn't believe from anybody but them.

Dr. Pearson had offered the options and Seth had jumped at the chance to call his folks without thinking twice. Now, alone in his room, all he could do was think. Think and analyze and freak out over.

Simon and Garfunkel was playing on his ipod, a true sign of his distress. His one crystal clear memory of Berkeley and his childhood in general was his head buried into his father's shoulder, his low voice singing softly, or lying in bed, the gentle strains of "Bridge Over Troubled Water" seeing him off to sleep. His musical tastes had changed over the years, but he always had their greatest hits collection on hand to get him through the hard days: fights with Summer, fights at school, fights with parents.

Seth's hands shook as he changed the song. He could only hope Ryan never discovered that particular guilty pleasure. It was embarrassing to listen to the same music as your father. Well, at least it was better than being a Journey freak, he figured, smiling slightly.

Finding his vomit tinted red had to be one of the scariest moments in Seth's life. If he hadn't been busy throwing up, he probably would have had a heart attack.

He mentally reminded himself to thank Dr. Pearson. It wasn't every guy who'd hold his shaking body still while he retched out every organ known to man. He was sure Pearson's pristine white lab coast had met its ultimate doom in the battle.

"At least I know what to buy him for Chrismukkah," Seth mumbled to the empty room. Talking to himself was not a new habit, but his almost constant solitude aggravated the issue.

The door flew open.

And there they were, looking anxious and sad and old.

They were all over him in seconds. Kirsten's warm arms were coiled around his body, her head titled and pressed lightly against his. Sandy ran his hands over Seth's head, squeezed his shoulder, and gently touched his face. They murmured nonsensical words, made quiet sounds, as much to comfort themselves as him, Seth figured.

And then he just stopped figuring, stopped agonizing over why Ryan wasn't there, why the eyes of his parents were red-rimmed. He simply closed his eyes and leaned into their love, letting everything wash away, letting everything go.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ryan leaned back and exhaled a cloud of smoke, feeling the tension slowly ebb out of his body.

He shifted his body slightly. The park bench wasn't the most comfortable spot in the world, but as soon as he'd bought the cigarettes, the temptation was too much for him to wait.

It wasn't hard fooling the cashier; he'd simply rolled his eyes at the obligatory request for ID and the guy had given up.

"Whatever. I'm not your father."

And he got them. He never realized how much he'd missed the old habit until he'd taken his first puff and felt the familiar release that punching a pillow just didn't quite do for him.

Suddenly antsy, he stood up and started walking, the cigarette dangling from his lips. He took a long drag before throwing it to the ground and lighting a new one.

He hated that feeling, that need to do something with his hands, throw something, hit something. He figured that's probably what Seth went through every day. He was one nervous kid, while Ryan was cool, solid. He could set his face into a blank expression at a moment's notice. He could sit still for hours with that look, never give anything away, never give himself away. And here he was freaking out, with nowhere to go.

Biting his lip, he glanced up. He was standing in front of Art's Used Comics, a store Seth frequented on occasion. Though the graphic novels inside were rarely in mint condition, Seth got a kick out of reading the water-stained Little Lottas, pointing out the finer points of the illustrations and analyzing the plots in minute detail to a clueless Ryan.

Without thinking, Ryan pulled open the door, the bells jangling beside him. Seth liked the crappy old comics about sad fat girls or heroes with names like Lightning Rod Man, a bunch of misfits to whom, it seemed, Seth could relate.

Thumbing idly through the boxes of comics, Ryan peered around the dimly lit store. His mouth twitched, and he couldn't help the uneasiness creeping over him.

"Hey! You can't smoke that in here!"

Ryan whirled around, startled. He swallowed a lump in his throat and glared directly at Art.

Art shrugged and averted his eyes. "Whatever. But you burn it, you buy it, got it kid?"

"Fine," Ryan snarled, not in the mood for common courtesy.

He flicked through the titles, wondering why Newport even had a used comic store. It stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the trendy clothing stores that lined the area. It stuck out like Seth Cohen.

"Ten dollars," Art announced as Ryan plopped five titles onto the counter.

Ryan tossed a crumpled up bill on the counter, watching Art intently as he considered Ryan's purchase.

"Interesting choices."

Ryan grunted. He'd picked the most pathetic batch he could find, the crappier the better he figured.

Art eyed him as he punched the buttons on the cash register. "You come in here all the time with that other kid. Haven't seen him around in awhile."

"He's in the hospital," Ryan said quietly, not quite sure why he felt the need to tell the man anything.

"Oh." Art's eyes softened. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay." Ryan shrugged, uncomfortable.

"Here." Art shoved the ten dollar bill at his hand. "He's my best customer."

Ryan shoved the man's hand away. "No problem. You keep it."

"All right kid." Art shoved the comics into a small black bag. "You have a good night, huh? Tell the other one I said hi."

"Seth," Ryan said. "His name is Seth."

Two steps outside, he tossed the bag into a cracked trash barrel and hurried down the pier.

It was a stupid idea. Seth didn't need comics. Ryan didn't know what he needed. He could figure it out for everybody else, but not the one who mattered the most.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Twenty minutes later, Ryan found himself in the Cohen's kitchen staring at the blinking red light of the answering machine.

One message. He didn't have to guess who it was. The question was: did he want to hear what Sandy and Kirsten had to say?

Only one way to find out.

"Hey, Ryan. Sandy. It's nine o'clock. Where are you? Umm..Seth's doing okay. The doctor said he just has a throat infection. They'll take him off chemo for a little while, but they said not to worry….Kirsten's.."

Ryan silenced Sandy's rumbling voice. He couldn't listen to another word. Not when his body was shaking and his anger was building. This couldn't happen. Sandy's voice couldn't be as beaten and depressed and lost as Ryan heard.

Ryan pressed his hands to his eyes and took a shuddery breath. His mind swam.

"Fuck," he whispered. Grabbing the first object that touched his hands, one of Kirsten's vases, he hurled it at the wall.

"Shit." Ryan's knees buckled beneath him and he was on the floor. He looked at the shards of glass littered across the floor. It was Kirsten's. He broke something of Kirsten's. They took him in and this is how he repaid them. He buried his head in his hands and took a shuddery breath.

It was Kirsten's favorite vase. She filled it with the fresh-cut flowers the florist delivered every week. Kirsten liked nice things, no matter what she said. And Ryan was ruining them. Ruining every one.

He couldn't be alone. He couldn't handle this. Fumbling for the phone, he dialed the only familiar number in Newport.

The ringing pissed him off. He couldn't wait, not when his body was shaking and his eye was twitching.

On the third ring, someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Marissa," he said, voice cracking. "Can you come over?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten dug through her purse, searching for her house key. She took a deep breath, attempting to compose herself for Ryan, assuming Ryan was actually there. Sandy had tried to call earlier, but no one was home.

She tried to shake off the memories of the hospital. Halfway into Dr. Pearson's speech about new medications and treatments, Seth took a turn for the worse again. Hearing about her son's symptoms and seeing cough up seemingly massive amounts of blood were two very different things.

Thank God for Sandy. Thank God for his stupid jokes whispered into Seth's ear while he vomited, for his arms around her waist, for his strength when she was crumbling. Thank God he forced her to go home and stay with Ryan.

He was good with these kinds of things. When Kirsten's mother was in the hospital, he took care of everything, took care of Seth while she was grieving, explaining what was happening to Grandma when she couldn't. He cooked dinner, did the laundry, slept in Seth's bed with him every night she spent at the hospital. He bought her flowers and hugged her and took her out when she spent all her time in the various waiting rooms at various hospitals. She wished she could be the same for me.

Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and closed her eyes. Things were going to be okay. And they had to be.

Her ears perked up at the sound a high-pitched, female giggle from the living room. Was Summer over?

Kirsten walked slowly to the living room, putting on her happy face for the kids.

She certainly wasn't expecting to see a shirtless Ryan on top of an almost equally naked Marissa.

Marissa's eyes found Kirsten and she pushed Ryan away.

"Oh my God." Marissa grabbed her shirt from the coffee table and hastily threw it over her head. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry."

Ryan was slower to stand up and, with a careless air, snatched his wife beater from its place over the lampshade and pulled it on.

"Oh my God." Marissa scurried toward the door, hair mussed, face flushed and flustered. She paused by Kirsten. "I'm sorry Mrs. Cohen. I-I hope Seth's okay."

"Thank you Marissa," Kirsten replied, shock not overcoming her bad manners.

"Umm..bye Ryan. Bye Mrs. Cohen."

With her exit came the arrival of silence.

Ryan's jaw set challengingly. He stared directly into Kirsten's eyes.

"Do you want me to apologize?" he asked, eyebrow twitching.

"Ryan, I-"

"Because I didn't do anything wrong, okay?"

"Ryan, I know this is hard for you. It's hard for all of us. Don't feel you can't talk to me…"

"Kirsten, I love you very much, but don't tell me how to feel. I don't want to talk, okay? I don't want to talk to you or Sandy or Ms. Fischer or anyone."

"Ryan, please.."

Tears welled up in Ryan's eyes. "I-I gotta get out of her. I'm leaving." He ran a hand through his hair. "I have to go."

His attempts to walk past Kirsten were foiled as she threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Kirsten, I swear to God, don't try to stop me," Ryan growled softly, trying to push through her.

Kirsten held on tight, not letting Ryan's squirming body out of her arms.

"Shhhh….shhhhhh…" Kirsten pressed her lips to Ryan's temple. "Shhhhhh….shh…baby, it's okay."

Ryan's fight died. He buried his head in Kirsten's shoulder, his body wracked with sobs. He didn't know what to do. He'd fucked things up. He'd messed it all up.

He couldn't be good anymore.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandy awoke with a start, his breath a loud gasp. Pressing a hand to his chest, he inhaled sharply.

He couldn't recall the offending dream, save a few jumbled images of pain and danger. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed shut his eyes.

Sure he wouldn't be able to sleep, Sandy stood up. His breath caught in his throat again. Seth wasn't in his bed. The bathroom door was wide open, the other room empty as well. Before the panic could multiply, his rational brain told him to investigate before he had a coronary.

He padded slowly down the hallway, peering into every corner. Where could Seth have gone?

The oncology floor was still at night. The on-duty nurses were probably on break or napping or covering the emergency room. He wondered how Seth could survive the lonely nights.

Sandy caught sight of Seth, his back to Sandy, curled up in a ball, body tucked under the check-in counter and staring at the mural of the sky.

Quietly, Sandy sat down behind him, not sure what to do. Seth's body was trembling violently.

"Seth?" Sandy squeezed his son's shoulder. "Seth, kiddo, come back to bed." He didn't add that he wasn't supposed to be out of his room without his wheelchair. His legs were weakened and shaky from cancer and infection.

"Heaven," Seth whispered, pointing to the wall. He rested his chin on his crossed arms, his shoulders bobbing up and down.

Wrapping his arms around Seth's mid-section, he pulled his body tightly to his, Seth's back resting against Sandy's chest.

"Dad…don't…I just…look it's.."

Seth was at a loss for words.

"Hey, it's fine. It's okay." Sandy pushed Seth's head gently onto his shoulder. "Let's just sit awhile, huh?"

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Sandy rocking his son back and forth gently.

"It hurts," Seth said finally. "Constantly."

"I know," Sandy replied, rubbing Seth's arm. "God, I know."

"I could die," Seth added, voice choked, but no tears fell from his eyes.

"I know," Sandy repeated, tightening his arms around Seth. "But you remember what I told you, don't you? You run away from me, I'm coming with you, got that?"

Seth's snicker was soft, but audible.

"Okay," he whispered, eyes glazed over but focused on the wall in front of him. He no longer cared that his father was holding him like he was a little kid. For awhile, maybe he could be the little kid.

"I mean it, kid." Sandy paused, considering his next words carefully. "You're not alone."

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	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Yeah, it's kind of been forever and ever and then some. I apologize. I'd go into a long-winded explanation, but that would pretty much bore everyone to tears.

Chapter 15

Kirsten's eyes fluttered open and she groaned.

Something shifted on her lap and she looked down. A sad smile found her lips and she stroked Ryan's hair gently.

When he'd first walked into her home she'd never imagined he's become her son. Her son. She couldn't imagine him sobbing on his shoulder. She certainly couldn't imagine him lying on the couch with his head resting on her lap.

They hadn't spoken. He'd cried and she'd held him, and that seemed to be what he really needed. There were no words that could calm fears. They could watch Seth's sickness progress for months and then have nothing to show for it. As much as Kirsten didn't want to admit to that reality, she was confronted with it head-on when Ryan broke down the night before.

She had to be strong now. Ryan couldn't be the adult. He couldn't be the strong one. She wouldn't let him run everything, comfort everyone. She was the parent, and though she as scared, she had a responsibility to her boys.

Tears grew in her eyes as she brushed her fingers across Ryan's face. She took note of the almost invisible scars that adorned his features. He'd been hurt before.

"Mom.." Ryan mumbled in his sleep.

Kirsten knew that the mom Ryan was dreaming about was in Chino, drinking, working, maybe drowning in regrets. No, Kirsten was not his mother. It wasn't a title she could take over in a moment's time. But she was his guardian.

"I will protect you," she whispered to the sleeping boy, a few tears sliding down her cheeks. She leaned over and placed a light kiss on each of his scars.

Ryan didn't stir. He lay, vulnerable, troubled, sad, but peaceful for the moment. Kirsten could still feel his body shaking in her arms, his head buried into her neck. She put a hand over her mouth to cover a sob.

"Mmm..Kirsten," Ryan's eyes opened, just barely. He was clearly too hazy to be embarrassed by his current situation. There was no jumping off, rapid fire apologies.

"Hi, Ryan," Kirsten said quietly, brushing the hair off of his forehead.

"Thank you," Ryan whispered softly, before his eyes closed once more, settling into sleep.

"No." Kirsten shook her head slightly. "Thank you."

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp

"You're okay. You're okay. You're going to be fine."

Seth clutched Sandy's hand tightly, his whole body shaking. His father's words poured over him, but he couldn't distinguish what he was saying.

"It'll be over in a second, I promise." Sandy rubbed the back of Seth's neck, trying to avoid looking at the needle stuck in his son' back. He felt heat explode behind his eyes. "You're okay. You're okay."

"H-Hurts," Seth slurred, his head jerking backward. He moaned. "Oh my god, oh my god.."

"Shhh..shhhh…it's gonna be fine. I promise." Sandy pressed his lips against Seth's forehead, still quietly muttering "shhh."

"D-dad..d-dad..hurts…bad.." Seth let out a guttural moan.

"Look at me. Focus on my eyes. C'mon kid, it's just a little longer."

Seth's blurred eyes found his father's green ones. All he could feel was the shooting pain in his back. It seemed to tear up his whole body. He felt so wasted. He couldn't hide from the pain anymore, deny it or cover it up with jokes or shifts in conversation. He couldn't bite back the yells and groans. He was in pain.

"That's it, kiddo. That's it." Sandy wiped the sweat from Seth's brow.

"All done," the doctor announced, quickly turning and walking away, leaving father and son alone together.

Seth took a few shallow breaths. He was panting heavily and he could still feel the pain shooting through his tired body. He hated the needles. He hated the tests. He hated scaring his father. He hated needing him to get through this. He hated going through this.

"Do you want a glass of water?" Sandy asked, already filling one up for him with the pitcher that lay on the nightstand.

He nodded, biting his lip.

With gentle touch, Sandy lifted Seth's head and held the glass to his lips. Seth took a few tentative sips.

"And I thought chemo was a bitch," Seth mumbled.

Sandy laughed a little too loudly as he replaced the glass. He slumped in the chair by Seth's bed.

"Try and get some sleep, son," he suggested, running a hand through his dark hair. "That'll help with the pain."

"I doubt it," Seth mused, yawning. "But Tahiti's waiting." His eyelids drooped closed. "I'll see you when I get back."

Groaning, Sandy buried his head into his hands. It never got any easier, watching his son suffer. He wanted to take the pain away from him, set it on himself if that's what it took. But that wasn't an option. He couldn't trade places with Seth. He could just sit by his side and offer what meager comfort he could.

He hoped he was doing it right.

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp

Sandy was startled awake by a very loud, very familiar voice.

"Sleeping through my arrival. How nice."

His eyes snapped open. The woman in front of him did not smile. She gave him The Look. The Look was used when his dad ran off, when his girlfriend dumped him, when he broke his arm. The Look of pity and sadness and love and concern and something he could never quite place.

"Ma," he whispered, taking two steps forward and wrapping his arms around her.

"Now, now, Sandford, it's going to be all right." Sophie's arms encircled her son and she rocked him side to side slowly.

Sandy buried his head against his mother's neck. He wasn't thinking about the thousands of times she hadn't been there for him. Those didn't matter. She was here now.

Sophie pulled back slightly, taking a good look at his face.

"You need a break, sweetheart," she informed him, planting a kiss on her cheek. "I had to take care of a few things, but I got here." She glanced over at Seth. "And how's my little Sethula?"

"He's-"

"Honestly?"

"He's not uh, he's not doing well." Sophie rubbed Sandy's arm as he spoke.

"Well, we're just going to have to do something about that, huh?" Sophie paused. "Where's that wife of yours?"

"Kirsten is at home, with Ryan."

Sophie nodded. She placed a firm hand on Seth's chest and bent down close to his ear.

"Sethula, sweetheart, Nana's here," she said.

"Nana?" Seth asked, groaning. He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He saw Sophie. He saw The Look. It was The Look he got when she came on her few visits. When he spent all of his time in his room, when he came home with a black eye.

"Hello dear." Sophie took her grandson into her arms. "I almost didn't recognize you without those locks of yours."

"My Jewfro," Seth replied fondly.

"Well that sense of humor has stayed intact then, hasn't it?"

"You bet, Nana."

Sophie kissed his cheek. "Well that's all you really need, anyway."

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp

Sandy and Sophie sat on the waiting room couch. Once Seth had fallen asleep yet again, they'd gone for a mostly silent walk around the hospital, before ending up in the waiting room.

"How are you, Sandford?" Sophie asked quietly. "I'm sure they don't ask you that question enough."

"I'm tired, Ma," Sandy admitted, rubbing his eye. "Tired and scared. I've never been this..lost before." He shook his head, fighting off emotion. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"I know, sweetheart," Sophie cooed softly. She pushed Sandy's head onto her shoulder. "You stay there for awhile."

"Thanks Ma." Sandy exhaled loudly. "I'm sorry..all those years ago, I left, and we-we were fighting. I never really said good-bye. Or sorry."

"You had to go," Sophie said simply, running her fingers through Sandy's dark hair. "It's all happened. Pain is pain. It comes and then it goes."

Sandy took a deep breath, enjoying his mother's warm fingernails tracing their way around his scalp. He missed that feeling of security that she had rarely ever given him. It felt nice to be the head on somebody's shoulder, to not have to be so goddamned strong.

"When you were just a little boy, you always talked about children." Sophie spoke into his hair. "You wanted them so badly. You were the only boy in the neighborhood who liked playing house as much as he liked baseball." She smiled. "And you were equally good at both." She closed her eyes, remembering her son running through the neighborhood, his laughter, his joy. "You looked like Sethula."

"I know," Sandy whispered, trembling.

"You always had the family with all of the drama when you played house. You couldn't pay the bills, car accidents, tragedies." Sophie pulled him a little closer to her. "You liked having someone need you. You liked people depending on you."

"I don't know if I'm strong enough for this, Ma. Seth's real. I don't know how to do this right."

Sophie chuckled. "Oh Sandy, there is no right way. There's your way. And that's what your little boy needs. Because he's going to grow up, and he'll still need you. He'll have pain and he'll need you to hold him. He'll need your shoulder and your way." Sophie paused. "And he loves you now. You don't have to work for it with him." She put a hand under Sandy's chin and titled it upward so she could look into his eyes. "I see the way he looks at you. Don't mess that up."

"I love you, Ma."

"I know." Sophie sighed. "I made you grow up too fast, didn't I?"

"But look what I turned into. Look what I've got." Sandy gestured around the waiting room, but they could both see his family and his room and his work.

"I'd like to say this was my plan all along, but I'm afraid I'd be a liar." Sophie kissed the top of her son's head. "I love you." She paused. "It's Schwarzenneger I'm having a little trouble with."

"He grows on you," Sandy replied.

"Not if he's a Republican, he doesn't," Sophie replied, mock stern.

"I figured as much." Sandy laughed quietly. "How's California treated you so far?"

"Dreadfully," Sophie replied, shuddering. "The airports alone are enough to make a grown man cry."

Sandy listened to his mother rattle off the never-ending list of all of the horrors of California living. And he smiled. Faintly, but it was a smile, and it was a start.


End file.
